Some folks hide it so well.
But people can always tell that yours truly has been operating under a bit of stress by assessing the number of unwholesome foods she allows into her piehole in any given period of time. I have ever-so-generously provided you with a grocery list of such evidence. Remember, people, we’re just gathering raw data here. However, extra credit goes to whoever most accurately gauges the level of stressed based upon quantity and quality of foodstuffs purchased. Extra, extra credit in the form of cheese & salami (if you can pry them from my cold, desperate hands) goes to whoever can stop me from revisiting this ridiculous cycle.
In five fearsome days, I have purchased* (and nearly consumed the entirety of):
- 1 bag, Reese’s Peanut Butter cups
- 1 bag, Dove milk chocolate
- 18 ct, mini old fashioned donuts
- 10 ct, buttermilk glazed donut bites
- 1 box, Fudgsicles
- 1 bag, dry salami
- 1 package, smoked gouda
- 1 wheel, Baby Bel Chipotle cheese deliciousness
- 2 cans, chipotle peppers in adobo sauce
- 13 lbs, chicken breast (it was buy one get one free!)
- 5 lbs, pork butt (a girl needs her pulled pork)
- 1 case, Dr. Pepper (for aforementioned pulled pork)
- milk, eggs, orange juice, bananas, peppers– none of which I will be able to finish due to [see list above]
*I’m positive that I have left some items off the list, as I made at least 4 trips to the grocery store and my pants no longer fit properly.
While peanut butter cups, chicken, eggs, and bananas may sound like diet staples, they’re altogether unwholesome when you are, theoretically speaking, a woman who lives by herself, who is forced to go to Kmart in an unsavory part of town for the express purpose of acquiring additional tupperware to anticipate the mass frozen storage of the impending deluge of meat stemming from her newfound crockpotmania. Theoretically. Oh, I forgot to mention that I am now the proud mama of a brand spankin’ new slow cooker, which is now happily bubbling away and making me some pulled pork. Oh slow cooker, your ease of use and unabashed ability to produce large volumes of suppertime goodness is largely responsible for my irresponsibility. In other words, my mother was right; I should have shipped it to my boyfriend’s apartment two states away.
On a positive note, I’d like to point out that my 4+ trips to the grocery store will leave me with something like twenty meals, at the cost of handful of meals out! Well, aside from the chocolate. And donuts. And cheese(s). Okay, I began this paragraph with every intention of boasting my acute dollars-per-meal sense, but have instead found myself hurled into the shameful glare of excess once more.
My apologies to the malnourished children of the world who suffer hunger pangs while I abuse my credit card and flaunt my lack of self control.
How appropriate, too, that today is Fat Tuesday. And tomorrow begins Lent, marking forty days of fasting or abstinence from luxuries.
* * *
Perhaps resulting from my horrible eating habits, my sleep patterns this weekend have been abnormal, to say the least. Two weeks ago, I launched a simple self-improvement experiment: go to bed by 10pm to get 8+ hours of sleep. The results stunned me. I knew I’d feel better, but I was delighted to find that my morning coffee gave me a double shot of my normal energy and I no longer had Criminal Minds-induced nightmares interrupting my slumber. Though my attention span improved almost immediately, I also became painfully aware of how non-stimulating my job is. I wonder if my preference for frozen-smiled, zombie workdays was actually a defense mechanism I subconsciously concocted to deal with my workday blues.
So by most standards, my sleep experiment was a success and I had adopted a new habit. Armed with the energy of a thousand Red Bulls, I welcomed the extended President’s Day weekend with a long to-do list and a healthy dose of enthusiasm. Unfortunately, all I really did was sleep. Ten hour nights, followed by three hour afternoon naps. Then ready for bed by 8pm. In three days’ time I slept a total of 40 hours, which is unheard of. While this may sound heavenly to some of you, I have a difficult time being idle so falling asleep after lunch and waking up to the dark evening sky was excruciating and I felt so disappointed with my decisions and lack of productivity. I suppose I really needed the rest as I’ve been operating on overdrive for quite some time now. Since half my office fell ill last week, I’m half-expecting some terrible flu to descend upon me like a swarm of angry locusts any day now. All I can do is eat my Vitamin C gummies, sleep some more, and hope for the best.
This round of stress culminated in a blind frenzy of supermarket shopping and extended rest periods. How… manic of me. I miss the days of my youth when stress made me want to run for miles. If only I could just run away now.
