I get probably 65% of my personal humor from the fact I have it and the ridiculous shit it makes me do. The other 35% percent? Lots and lots of poop anecdotes.
But the truth of the matter is I have it and sometimes it hurts a lot and sometimes it causes myriad other problems like excessive napping and eating disorders and crying at the grocery store because there are just too many people who need to use the motorized scooters to move around and what if I become one of them and someday I'll have to lean down to get wheat flour and what if I fall out of the scooter and, and, and...
Anyway, depression is why I haven't been posting again, and this time it's nice to just explain it for what it is. Sure, I've been busy and there have been interruptions in my schedule, but for the most part I've just been really, really overwhelmed by suffocating, miserable, terrible depression. (And also because it's been really, really nice out and when that happens I like to transfer my Sitting and Brooding at the Computer to Sitting and Brooding While Outside. It's so much more noble.)
I would like to get started again. I have tried to get started every day since my grandma died, and then I get to dinner and I mess it up. I wonder if I'm seriously going to have to take it hour by hour and write down every little up and down that happens like this:
11:24 am. Have spotted a dusty Tootsie Roll from my Halloween stash behind my computer. Tootsie Roll could conceivably be the ruination of my entire day if I eat it, although a cost-benefit analysis confirms I would burn more calories than the Tootsie Roll's worth by crawling under my desk and retrieving it. Tough decision.
Really? Am I going to be THAT rudimentary about it? Is that what you have to do when you need to pick up the pieces and move on? It all just seems so AA something, but as I've said several times before now I'm desperate. The body ain't getting any smaller as I sit and ruminate over the injustices of the world, and at as much as I detest the idea of just keeping a food blog right now, at least it'd give me something to write until I feel like I can keep my head above water for more than a few days at a time. I just wish I could blog at work so I could really be accountable. I'll have to work on that.
Mighty Minx updated.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Sunday, March 4, 2007
If you're interested, I'm including a link to my non-diet blog I'm resurrecting after a short hiatus. The link is below or on my menu bar to the left.
Mighty Minx (UPDATE: Broken link fixed. Sorry!)
1) Eat every available source of high fructose corn syrup and saturated fat in the Midwest in the space of a month.
2) Do not move from chair or bed unless absolutely necessary and spend most of moving time complaning about sinuses or exhaustion until motivation to move is utterly vanquished.
3)Eat two out of three meals a day at drive-thru, hoping your harried manner and work clothes are suitable reasons for grabbing a grilled chicken sandwich from the same establishment at which you purchased mozzarella sticks three hours previously.
4)Do not, under any circumstances, hydrate yourself. Maintain a constant state of malaise that can only be triggered by binge drinking hangovers or complete abstinence from any source of water during this time. Water only makes you feel healthy and feeling healthy is the first step towards that slippery slope of actually being healthy. Bonus points if your urine resembles Tang after this effort.
5)Spend countless hours pondering your own perfectionism/procrastination issues and think REALLY REALLY HARD about why you don't feel desirable or worthy instead of actually doing something about it. Please also perform this activity while lying prone on your bed eating something Devil's Food-related that was prepared in a mixing bowl but took a detour to your gaping maw before actually getting baked.
6) Step on scale at the end of first disastrous month to ensure that a large amount of weight (ideally 4-6 pounds) has been gained. Lather, rinse, repeat until vaguely resembling Jabba the Hutt or maybe the woman who does deli meat samples at the local grocery store while sitting in a lawn chair with her feet propped up on the egg bunker.
How in God's name did I LOSE WEIGHT this week? I'm down to 221.8, which isn't a fanastic loss but it's also not a gain. And it's not even a fluke, because I took my measurements and my waist is down to 37.25". Maybe I should eat like shit every week.
Nah. I think this is a sign. God wants me to lose weight and get over this sickness and feel better. The universe is opening itself up to my weight loss efforts. I am divinely commissioned to stop being a fatass this week. Awesome.
Now cross your fingers for me while I throw away the other half of my pint of Chubby Hubby.