crossed the line
As I’ve mentioned, and will continue mentioning, because I’m staring at a screen at work with boredom seeping into my brain like a stale marinade I’m just recently back from vacation. On that vacation, I ate like shit. But U.T.D., you already eat like a two hundred pound seven-year-old, you say? Your point? Even for my already nutrient-less consumption habits, it’s been an indulgent week. I think I may have hit the fast-forward on the heart attack D.V.D.
There was the juicy lucy from Busters, the meatball and chicken pizza from fat’s, the mashed potato pizza from Town Hall, and the pan cooked “chips” of unknown origin prepared by Greg; that was the first weekend. I had some pizza from Punch, three-quarters of a box of mac and cheese, and a bunch of peta to round out grub before the trip. On the way to, while staying in, and coming back from Los Angeles I partook in the following:
five cheeseburgers, two steak and potato dinners, two over-sized hot dogs, two cupcakes delicious, delicious, cupcakes, one overloaded turkeyburger, a bagel slathered with double the cream cheese, a heaping plate of mixed Greek, a larger-than-chipotle chicken burrito with chips, and more appetizers than I can count or would like to admit.
This is all while exercising as much as Oprah in a fat season. I think I walked five miles the whole damn week. Yesterday, for lunch, I had two giant slices of pizza and a cookie that came to my desk around three. But the line was officially crossed today.
I was hungry. More than normal, but that’s probably due to my dinner. A four course affair consisting of half a bagel, toasted burnt, technically, but it’s not like I’m on Iron Chef, and smeared with cream cheese. The other courses? Um, well actually those were the same; three more times. Maybe four courses wasn’t the right description, but I digress.
The point is, I was hungry and waiting for a toasted turkey and cheese wasn’t cutting it. So I ventured into the great odor maze that is the skyway. I had set off for Jimmy Johns and ended up at crazy tacos which, for those not in the know, is about one-third the way to J.J.’s; I didn’t make it too far. I ordered the cheese lover combo because it’s hard to mess up. The combo of chips and cheese, a cheese enchilada, and a small cheese quesadilla makes it even harder.
It’s just a pile of cheese, in varying levels of melt, in or on top of different forms of flour products. It came with a cup of carbonated empty calories. The quesadilla was soggy and the cheese on the chips solidified before I got back to my desk, but the enchilada was pretty solid. and, of course, by “pretty solid,” I mean a metaphoric artery stomping, courtesy a pair of Timberlands.
It’s no wonder I’ve started to round out and fill in. I’ve been eating like when I was moving furniture whilst burning about eighteen calories a day. I could eat foods that are lower in fat a compromise that doesn’t involve vegetables or fruits, but why should I have to? This should do the trick. It’s a steal at sixty bucks for twelve days. By the end of that round I should be down to a skeletal fifty-nine kilograms.
At any rate, I definitely slipped over into the carpool lane on the highway toward morbid obesity. Should keep an eye on all that.