It is safe to say that the idea of quitting something, anything, is a fairly daunting task for someone with an obsessive personality, such as myself.
What? Me? Obsessive? Get the fuck outta here.
Yes. It's true.
At least, I believe that has become the universal classification for it. If that word didn't exist, I would prefer to consider myself to be a person that possesses intense conviction; I don't do anything half-assed.
Actually, the thought of that phrase perplexes me, since I'm very visual. Do you think that implies the top or bottom half of both ass cheeks, or just one cheek with the asshole entirely exposed and vulnerable to nature's elements?
Anyway, I digress.
Yes. I go full out when I decide I love or want something. When I go shopping, I shop like there's no tomorrow. When I started smoking, I smoked like a rock star. When I started fucking, I fucked like a champion. When I fall in love, I can't see straight. And of course, my first obsession would be with eating. When I eat, I can eat for a small village.
Fuck, I love food. Yummy, yummy food. Foodie. Food. Food.
Now, some people over-eat because they're depressed, or because they're happy. Some do it because of self-loathing. Some even eat simply because they're bored.
But here's the thing:
I'm not depressed (most of the time).
I'm happy (a lot of the time).
I think I'm awesome (twenty-four-seven).
I'm never bored (ever).
So why do I over-eat?
Because my belly is screaming, "Get that fucking fantastic food in here, bitch! NOW!" And really, how can one argue with their own internal organs? Maybe my love just runs too deep, like a tumor that has wrapped itself around a vein and is completely inoperable; we are one. Me, myself and food.
This brings me to the one thing that I do often, and that is quit diets. A lot.
They all work. That's not the problem. It's staying on them that is the problem. It's the perpetual cycle of hemorrhaging money to various institutions and companies, succeeding, becoming poor and then rebounding once I quit since I cannot afford the maintenance plans. It's absolutely obnoxious.
I have decided on the alternative, which is that I vow to be acceptably content with myself, just the way I am.
I will not attempt any more stupid fads or clubs or watchers of any sort. I still struggle every day not to over-eat, but I feel I can control myself on the majority of days. Also, since groceries have fucking sky rocketed in price the last 6 months, financial situations have actually helped me control my intake and what I actually buy and what I must now do without.
But that is it. I quit.
I have officially quit quitting diets.
Or rather, I'm quitting them all together.
So let it be written.
So let it be done.
And for a special treat that I give myself in moderation... Blizzard? Baby! Here I come to face fuck you!
What size?
Don't be insulting.
Medium...
with extra topping.
Giddy'up!
