"That’s it," I decided. "I’m always acting like I’m on top of this, but it’s time to get real. Brass goddamn tacks.” I stuffed another donut in my face. “I am hitting this diet so hard. Two weeks, strict. Chicken, carrots, all that shit.” The next one was a glazed old-fashioned, my favorite.
And so it began.
Diet will officially begin tomorrow. Having my last hurrah until then. Donuts for breakfast, lunch wherever smells good downtown, and, I dunno, food for dinner. I’m going to make myself so sick of deliciousness today that I won’t even want to look at it for weeks.
Meanwhile, I’m doing research. Like real, honest-to-god science. I’m reading articles with sources. I’ve worked out a shopping list, meals for the next two weeks. I’ve even done a pilot run on some of the less familiar recipes, while the pressure’s still off.
Feelin’ good. Gonna ace this.
Day 1 - Monday - Breakfast, 6 AM
Egg whites and spinach. Oh yeah. Egg whites. Because when eggs have color, they’re not as healthy. That’s just a fact. They’re also missing a ton of critical nutrients, but screw that, that’s what all these damn multivitamins are for.
Mid-morning snack, 10 AM
Jerky. It’s like a dried and shriveled steak. Full of protein. I’m gonna be one giant goddamn muscle.
Lunch, 1130 AM
Spinach and salmon salad. I’m like Popeye up in here.
Dinner, 7 PM
What’s that? Broiled trout, you say? Look how nautical I’m being today. With a side of broccoli? That’s another vegetable, waistline! YOU’RE GOING DOWN.
Still kinda hungry. Is that…? Huh. Still half a crusty donut in that box. Well, I can’t just throw that out, it’ll attract ants.
Day 2 - Tuesday - Breakfast - 620AM
Eggsandspinacheggsandspinacheggsandspinach I’M SO GOOD AT THIS
Snack - 930 AM
Licked the inside of yesterday’s jerky bag. Unsatisfactory. Caved in and bought a cliff bar from the cafe. It’s ok, it’s ok. Temporary setback. I didn’t ration well enough. We can correct this.
Lunch - 1130 AM
Ohh yeah spinach salad again. With hard-boiled eggs. And maybe a chocolate-brownie cliff bar. I mean, hikers eat those. And climbers. It can’t be bad. Do you see what those people do? There’s something in these. Something…powerful.
Afternoon - 2 PM
Ferdinand and I were dispatched from the office to go to town and perform business. Stopped at Starbucks on the way back to acquire the only form of bribery the higher-ups respond to.
Noticed a wrapper stuffed in my cup holder after we returned. Told Ferd to clean up his mess, but he claims that I ate a whole piece of cake by myself. Liar! I’m on a diet.
Dinner - 730 PM
Steak and veggies. Because steak and veggies.
Emergency - 930 PM
Starving. Something is wrong. No human can be this hungry. Obviously I have a tapeworm or something. Found a can of chicken noodle soup hiding in the back of my pantry. Nuked and consumed lukewarm. This seems to have calmed the parasite. I will seek medical attention soon.
Day 3 - Wednesday - Breakfast - 640 AM
Eggs. Just….eggs. Other things seem difficult.
Morning - 915 AM
Got another cliff bar. I’m starting to feel it. The cliffwalker magic, hiding underneath the chocolate. The layers and layers of chocolate and honey. Obviously, this is why I am drawn to them. My subconscious knows they’re good for me.
Lunch - 1115 AM
Spinach salad again. Seems to have come up to a pound or two heavier on the scale than normal. I confronted the cashier about this obvious calibration error, but was charged for it nonetheless. Unbelievable.
Also acquired a Muscle Milk shake. Exhaustive research on my lunch break showed it to be lactose free, which means I can consume it safely. I thought this would be an excellent fuel-boost.
Exhaustive research did NOT reveal that Muscle Milk tastes like strawberry-flavored sidewalk. It was thrown away largely unconsumed.
Dinner - 720 PM
There has been an intruder in my house. I am the victim of a home invasion!
I returned from the gym to find that the chicken I had in the fridge thawing did not have the motivation to be cooked. As I pondered this, a number of wrappers and scraps bearing the familiar Jimmy John’s logo appeared on my counter.
Obviously I was clubbed in the head and lost consciousness, after which the fiendish perpetrator was free to do as he pleased, which at some point apparently involved a grossly unhealthy dinner.
I notified the police, of course, but they have proven less than helpful. They claim there is no sign of forced entry, and the EMT’s promise that I have not sustained any kind of debilitating trauma. Furthermore, the police say that since nothing was stolen, no crime has been committed. Unbelievable! I showed them, I showed them, the criminal left things, not took them! AND THEN THEY FINED ME.
There’s only one explanation. They’re in cahoots. They’re all in cahoots! THIS GOES ALL THE WAY TO THE TOP. Every branch of the government, every influential body—conspiring against me! They’re afraid! AFRAID OF MY GROWTH. AFRAID OF MY POWER. AFRAID OF WHAT I WILL BECOME.
Oh, look. The intruder left a cookie. Well. It has been a long day.
But no, no. I’m on a diet. I can’t just make up excuses whenever I want something.
….Although, the thought does occur….hmm. Many diets claim you should take a “cheat day” at the end of the week, as that will give you a light at the end of the tunnel, so to speak—and a stress release when you get there. I had planned to take mine on Saturday, but….no, no. That’s all wrong! How did I not see it!
A “cheat day” system doesn’t account for the whole picture! You should be thinking in terms of the week. Better health, better diet, every day all the time forever. So! With simple math, I have determined:
1 cheat day = 24 hours
7 days in a week
24 hours / 7 days
=3.428571 hours per day
That means you SHOULD be cheating for 3.428571 hours of each day, in order to achieve optimum dieting. Of course! So that’s 1 hour to eat whatever you want around breakfast, 1 for lunchtime, 1 for dinner, and .428571 (25m 42.8556s) for snacking throughout the day. IT’S SO OBVIOUS.
Wait, I’ve been dieting THIS WHOLE TIME!