A perfect storm of self improvement
As if all that weren’t enough, last week, Beloved and I watched Super Size Me for the first time. Yikes! Although I’d read and heard a lot about it, seeing it - and we were glued to the screen for the whole thing - went a long way toward curing us of our fast food addiction.
The same week, I was making my daily trek through Chapters. I like to see what’s new and hot and intriguing and add the titles to my library wish list, but on this particular day the book You On A Diet : The Owner’s Manual for Waist Management leapt out and practically threw itself into my bag. Since it was discounted by 40% with my membership, I bought it on impulse and have been inching my way through it in spare moments. (It’s the first non-infertility health book I’ve ever bought, which is an interesting peek into my state of mind, IMHO.) I found out later that Oprah recommended it, which is ordinarily enough to make me walk quickly in the other direction, but so far it’s been at least interesting, if not as compelling as watching the guy’s liver fail on Super Size Me. If you’re interested, I’ll post a longer review of it when I’m done.
So yesterday I came home the grocery store with a cart full of enthusiasm and - remember this complaint from last month? - no less than FIVE DAYS worth of meals. And not just crap, either - actual healthy meals. And healthy snacks, too. Go, me!!
Beloved unpacked the groceries into the cupboard while I cleaned up the poop in the back yard. (Sidebar: this weather is freaking me out. It’s mid-January and I just picked up half a season of poop from the back yard, which I often do during the January thaw - except I am usually shovelling it off a crust of deeper ice and snow. I have never, in the seven years we’ve owned Katie, picked up poop off grass in January.)
“What’s with all this healthy crap?” he queried from the deck as I shovelled shit into a Glad bag.
“There’s a new regime in town, baby!” I told him.
“Overthrow the regime!!” he responded in mock disgust before returning to the kitchen to put away the rice cakes, veggies, and whole-wheat pasta.
You know what the best part is? I lost a pound. Just one pound, but a pound nonetheless.
My colleague, the commenter otherwise known as Trixie, made my day by likening that single pound to a pound of butter. I like to think I melted it directly off my tucus.
Stand back. There’s no stopping me now.
Labels: It IS all about me