I abandon blogs with abandon. If you know what I mean.
But I didn’t really abandon this one, just pressed pause for, you know, a long time. Here’s why:
No good reason.
Also, I fell off the food-wagon because it’s too hard.
Also, I got really really busy with work. Damnit. I was super enjoying the down time. Bastards expecting me to work.
Also, I decided to write a book. Fiction. Just fluff, really. I will not be posting any sort of summary or synopsis or excerpts or any of that jazz. I have no idea how to write fiction, I just want to do it. I have 12 pages. Twelve whole pages. It’s like the longest paper I ever wrote in college.
Let’s discuss the food-wagon. Really, it should be called the food truck, because they’re trendy? And everyone likes them? But it’s a wagon. Anyway, it is so hard and takes so much work to stay on the food wagon. I have to tangle with my husband virtually every day, he feigns total ignorance about the goals and loses all motivation to contribute anything at all to food prep, so that leaves it all up to me. I got busy and couldn’t go to the stores every week and certainly couldn’t make it to the specialty stores or farmer’s markets. As my work days grow longer – something that happens every Spring and Summer and well into Winter – my food gets worse and worse. I have crap going on every weekend for six weeks in a row which you can deduct from my food prep time.
Without having the food on hand and without the time to prepare food, I am lost. My husband is all-up-in-it (the kitchen, that is) nowadays because it’s all meat and wheat and sugar and shit, so I have plenty of help with food prep when we don’t give a crap what we’re eating. It’s rather heartbreaking, actually. I feel a bit dejected and quite a bit resentful. I have no one in my corner with this. Okay, well, that’s not true. I have no one in my house with this. Plus, if I relent one time on cookies, my husband takes it as a precedent and then brings cookies home every day (or the equivalent). And I’m not strong enough to not eat them, people. And it doesn’t matter what I say to him, the cookies/cakes/ice creams keep appearing. So then I’m all, fine, yes a cupcake would be great. Because cupcakes are great in every way except the way in which they are detrimental to my health. And then the man, who cannot be bothered to even slightly try to come up with a healthy dinner for us, sits around dreaming up cakes that have peanut butter cups for the filling and fudge for the frosting and you know, screw me.
I do completely recognize that he is not forcing me to eat this stuff. It is entirely my fault. Most of my anger is with me for being weak and so quickly led astray. I am going to get back on top of it, though. I just needed a moment to vent. I see how easy it is to backslide now and I will be more on guard in the future. And on the positive side, I believe the months of effort before did make some lasting changes. Maybe the changes aren’t enough to ensure good health, at this point, but even in the midst of a major backslide, both my husband and myself had moments of “I just really want a salad for dinner” much more often than we ever would have. At least that part is encouraging.
And, lastly, let me leave you with this: I can vouch for the effects diet on how you feel. I feel so. much. worse. when I am not eating properly. In every way. That has always been my motivating factor for trying a different nutritive approach, and I was right. Eating well makes you feel well. Eating shite makes you feel shite.