I’ve found that the harder I try to lose weight and “be good,” the more random people make it challenging for me. I made note of a few examples over the last week or so.
First, one fine Monday, I had a particular hankerin’ for Wendy’s, as I sometimes get. What? I enjoy their “sea salt” fries and floppy burgers every once in a while, okay? I told myself that what I really needed was quarters to do laundry, and used Wendy’s as an excuse to ask someone behind a cash register for laundry change. Two birds with one stone, people. I also said to myself, “Self, you don’t have a lot of money right now since you’re saving up for your New York trip, so let’s keep this order sweet and simple, under $3.” No big, that’s what value menus are for. With all of this churning in my dieting brain, I ordered a Jr. Cheeseburger…NOT a Jr. Bacon Cheeseburger, just to clarify. And a value fry. And a small diet coke, just for kicks and giggles. The lady told me my total would be six dollars and something. I said no, no. Just take that drink off, I didn’t need the carbonation anyways. She then told me my new total was four dollars and something, whatever lady, just give me my burger before I change my mind about this trip entirely. I asked the not-so-friendly worker if she had any quarters and she answered, “I already closed my drawer.” Oh, awesome. So I drive away and when I get home I see that there are actually TWO Jr. Cheeseburgers in the bag. And I DEFINITELY did not eat both of them. Nope, definitely not. And in case you were wondering, that meal was 940 calories.
Second, I joined some friends at a restaurant/bar downtown this past Sunday to watch some rugby. Well, I just went because Rob bribed me with brunch. My dieting brain + hunger pangs told me to get the ham and cheese, which sounded like a simple sandwich that would satiate me until dinner. My “ham and cheese” was plopped in front of me, the “sandwich” was actually two giant pieces of texas toast with about half a pound of ham in between, melted cheesy deliciousness covering the entire square footage of the sandwich, and a perfectly cooked duck egg on top. It looked incredible, but all I saw was CALORIES CALORIES CALORIES. Funny enough, one of the guys with us looked at me and said, “Allie, you won’t eat that whole thing.” And I replied, “Challenge accepted, sir.” And so it goes…I ate the whole darn thing. And it was SOO GUD.
As my friend Abby would say, the struggle is real.