I’ve been cheating. On my diet. Like…. cheating. A lot. If this were a marriage, the diet would be threatening to leave me and go back to live with its mother and I would be on my knees, drunk and crying holding flowers and wearing a dirty wifebeater, promising it will never happen again baby, don’t leave me, I need you, don’t make me cheat again, baby why you make me hurt’chu?
The thing that’s so hard about dieting during the holidays is vendor gifts. I mean, I’ve put up with enough shit this year from enough of these chodes that they’d better be offering up some tokens of esteem and gratitude during this yuletide. But why is it that I am getting all the foodstuffs while the men in the office are getting non-edible, fun gifts from the SAME VENDORS? What, chicks only want food? Is that it? One vendor sent James and Brad those big buttons from the Staples commercials that say “Easy” on them. James put his up in the hall so now everyone who walks past it pushes it and I have to hear the automated voice say “that was easy” every fifteen minutes. I’m going to kill James, by the way. It’s my new year’s resolution. Seriously. That guy? GETTIN’ it.
Heh, it’d be pretty funny if I had an “Easy” button on my door. I’d put it right under my name plate.
I stayed away from two christmas parties this weekend. I’d like to claim a steely discipline but you know the truth is that I’m a Virgo homebody and sometimes I just don’t wanna put on hosiery. Sometimes I just want to chill and sit on my couch and watch “you’ll shoot your eye out!” and turn off all the lights and look at my christmas tree. I slept on the couch Saturday night so I could do just that. So I thought I’d be safe staying home, avoiding party food.
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Sometimes I’m so naïve I want to pinch my own cheeks.
There were almonds in the house, you see. And the thing about almonds is A) they’re fattening and B) you have no idea how many you’ve eaten until you’ve eaten a metric ton. I’m allowed to eat some to fulfill my daily fat requirement, but get this, I’m allowed seven. Seven almonds. Again. If I could eat seven of ANYTHING, I wouldn’t have a weight problem now would I, LA Weight Loss? So I had to toss those. And throw away half a jar of peanut butter. I had to! I was eating too much! I suppose it says something for me that I can bring myself to throw stuff away and not dig through the trash for it later, but still. I’m like a porn addict. Only for certain foods instead of sex. Peanut butter that’s really chunky. Almonds that are unsalted (wink, wink, nudge, nudge). Goat cheese, yeah! Do it, dairy products!! You know what I like!!!
You know what I mean? Who’s with me? Oh. Oh I see. You have no addictions. Nothing makes you want to snack unceasingly. There’s not one single thing you can’t do in moderation. Is that what I’m hearing?
Fine. I’m off to try to get rid of the rest of the best goddamned cookies I’ve ever eaten. Gift from a vendor. Sittin’ here on my desk laughing at me. Taunting me. Whores.
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