This has been going on for two weeks. It's been working out pretty okay. Sometimes it feels tough in the moment, but sitting here right now thinking back, I'm struggling to think of a single example of how my life has gotten worse because I couldn't eat such-and-such. Would Willow's birthday gathering last week have been that much better if I had triple the amount of pizza? Probably not. I'd feel real good for about five minutes because my tongue's receptors would be sending signals to my brain like "this tastes fucking great" but then the receptors in my stomach would, after those five minutes, start sending opposite signals, like "yo you're a fat piece of shit why did you eat seven slices of pizza" etc. etc.
I don't go back to read what I write for this blog column. I can't imagine it's very compelling. I also imagine that if there is anyone reading this daily, that they are about ready to check out because it's just really repetitive and droll. My bad, yo.
It really does help me. I had a tight moment today when Sophie wanted a soft chocolate chip cookie and I pulled the fresh pack down from the top shelf of the cabinet and gave her one and then dumped the rest into the cookie jar and my mouth was watering because in a past life (a.k.a. fifteen days ago) probably a third of that pack wouldn't have made it into the cookie jar at all, I would've devoured that shit, and those dark thoughts crossed my mind for a moment and then I let them go and, I dunno, ate a couple prunes or whatever.
Primal Kitchen's buffalo sauce with avocado oil is 12.5 calories per tsp and I've used that as a salad dressing the past two days, a salad with chicken breast and the buffalo sauce and a Diet Coke on the side, and if I close my eyes, I'm at Moriarty's eating their wings. Whatever it takes to get through the day.
Gonna try to hit the gym tomorrow, assuming I can walk when I get out of bed.
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