So I gathered my spoils--totaling a mere $4.04--went home, and scarfed. The burritos tasted like they had been sitting out for 6 hours, but I scarfed nonetheless. I didn't eat the doritos because I got full.
Immediately after I had demolished my $4 worth of reckless abandon, I felt sad. I remembered waking up this morning and looking at myself in the mirror and vowing that I would keep it under control today.
--Don't worry guys, this isn't the part where I tell you that I threw up because I didn't learn anything from that Lifetime movie I watched in middle school. Yeah right, that video was next level scare-tactics.--
But this is the part where I wonder 'how come I can't get control of my life?
Last year around this time I told myself I would do better. I started weight watchers and went to the gym pretty regularly. And guess what? I lost 15 pounds in like 5 months! I was super proud of myself. I bought new clothes and I felt pretty and confident.
Well...then school started and all hell broke loose. I suddenly became completely incapable of controlling my eating habits. I started to justify eating out for every meal because I just "didn't have time to cook." I wigged out over my work/class schedule and started eating huge meals in the middle of the day followed by weird dinners at night and LOTS of soda everywhere in between. Consequently over the last 7 months I don't think I've gained back all 15 pounds, but I'm probably at least halfway there...I don't know for sure. I haven't weighed myself in a while...
Here's my plan though:
I'm going to hit up Weight Watchers on Saturday morning. I'm going to weigh myself and figure out the collateral damage and then commit once again to doing something about it. Then, over the summer when I'm not super busy, I can lose 15 pounds again!
Just to be clear--I don't see myself as extremely overweight. I see myself as pretty normal weight-wise. I don't obsess over the circumference of my thighs, or spend hours playing with my fat while talking to other people about how fat I am. I only do that, like, once or twice a week. As Zack Galifianakis might say "I'M NOT THAT FAT!" But, I don't feel particularly great about myself either. And that's what really counts. I want to escape from the person I've become who gobbles down a McChicken sandwich and a large coke from McDonald's almost daily. NOBODY WANTS TO BE/LOVE THAT PERSON. I'm pretty sure about that.
Eating is emotional and psychological...and thinking about controlling it makes me extremely anxious. It's a guilty pleasure, it's an escape, it's a comfort...it's an ADDICTION.
Basically, I just don't want to have to shell out money for a bunch of new pairs of pants. I want to keep wearing the pants I have! This one's for you, pants.
And for you, Paula.