Sunday, July 10, 2011

Hang in There, Baby

176.4 lbs. I’m  1.8 lbs. away from being 50 lbs. down. You bet what’s left of my ass I’m happy.

I just signed up for HEALTH INSURANCE again! Frabjous joy (? From “The Jabberwock” by Lewis Carroll) It’s group health so, unfortunately, I didn’t get to test my new BMI vs. the health insurance company algorithms to see who would win, but hey, now I can get my blood chemistry tested without a) having to do it myself because b) I don’t want some dopey doctor just looking at me and prescribing Lipitor. Fuck Big Pharma. And before I start hearing about “well, they do this and they do that” [imagine sound of air horn]: They are in the business of selling pills and will do whatever it takes to make you a customer and a lifelong one at that. You know those ads for a “Drug Free America”? Did you ever notice that they never address prescription drug abuse? Chew on that.

“Bless me, Father for I have sinned.”

“Go talk to Richard Simmons or Oprah or Doctor Oz. Leave me alone.”

“Oh, you’re just crabby because Andre Ethier’s talking about going to the Red Sox.”

“He is?”

“Yes and I would welcome him. JD Drew is just a little too fragile. When he’s good, he’s great, but when he’s not, as thunder follows the lightning, he’s going to be on the DL list.”

“You didn’t come here to talk baseball. Spill it. I have to listen to Mrs. Mulroney every week talk about impure thoughts about Tom Jones. She’s been having those thoughts for 50 years.”

“Hey, he’s still got it, but that’s not why I’m here. I cheated.”

“You’re not married.”

“Not that kind of cheating, Father. I broke my discipline on exercise and eating this week.”

“You know, maybe if you got yourself a boyfriend, you’d leave me out of it.”

“You’re encouraging fornication?”

“I’m encouraging ‘leave me the hell alone-ication.”

“I’ve not maintained my schedule, Father.”

“And why not? Have you been fornicating? That’s lust, one of the Big Seven.”

“No, Father. You know better.”

“Have you been sleeping until noon? That’s sloth, another one of the Big Seven.”
“No, Father. In fact, I’ve been getting up early to work every day.”

“You got a job? That’s good. Earned income is a beautiful thing. So have you been stuffing yourself? That’s gluttony. Big Seven.”

“And my particular favorite for years, but only tonight, Father.”

“Why is this night different from all other nights?”

“Is that a Jewish joke, Father?”

“Huh? Oh, right. Passover questions. Rabbi Greenberg thinks he’s George Carlin. No. Let me rephrase: why did you break your discipline tonight?”

“I was at a gathering with friends to watch the last three Harry Potter movies and I indulged in a bunch of things I’ve been able to resist eating for quite some time.”

“For example?”

“I had two Mimosas and an English muffin with light butter.”

“Well, I don’t think the alcohol will hurt you too much, but we’ll wait and see what the gluten does to you. That’s penance enough. Was that it?”

“No, Father, I had some pizza, too.”

“Oh, great, more gluten And sodium and saturated fat and all that stuff that puts you in a panic when My Net Diary gives you the thumbs down on intake.”

“See, I cheated there, too, Father. I didn’t input all that stuff.”

“Well, you’re going to feel like crap. What did you weigh this morning?”


“So you won’t be shocked at a spike, right?”

“No, Father and I figure the gluten intake should do it.”

“This close to 50 and you had a field day. Sabotage?”

“I don’t think so. There was fresh melon there and I stuck mostly to that.”

“Well, that’s not a big deal. But the pizza…and you said you’d been breaking your gym schedule. Hmm. Okay, this is not good. Tell me, are you keeping up with your brain chemistry supplements.”

“Yes and no. I just ran out of a bunch of them.”

“For how long?”

“A few days.”

“You know you’re crediting that stuff with controlling your eating habits and helping you stick to the exercise routine.”

“Yes, Father, but money has been tight lately. That’s $210 for a three month supply right there.”

“Right, but you’re working again and you’ll buy things as you need them and rebuild. Get the N aceytil cysteine, alpha lipoic acid and L tyrosine first. Keep your dopamine and serotonin levels up or get them back up.”

“What did you do, rifle my purse?”

“That thing? Honestly, I don’t know why you feel you need to lift weights with that thing. What do you have in there, bricks? The thing’s a lethal weapon!”

“Back on track, Father.”

“Okay, here’s the deal: you slipped. And yes, I know about the flourless chocolate cake. And before you jump on that. I know because I was in Whole Foods when you bought it. The only time I’ve seen anyone with a more crazed look in her eyes was Mrs. Mulroney at bingo when the prize was an all expenses paid weekend in Vegas with a Tom Jones show thrown in. I thought she was going to strangle Mrs. Whitehead when she won it.”

“Your point?”

“And yes, I have one: You’re back on duty as of right now. Re-establish your focus, get your eyes back on the prize. Speaking of which, what is the prize?”

“Feeling better?”

“You don’t have a more material reward in mind?”

“Depends. Do you have George Clooney’s phone number?”

“No and I’m not about to go get it for you, either. Why don’t you come up with a non-food reward for your next milestone. That’s the 50, right?”

“Yes, Father.”

“Something moderate, like going to get your nails done. I know you have that salon you like. And figure out something for hitting the big jackpot. I want you to come up with rewards that you can picture. In fact, cut pictures out of magazines and make a vision board, you know? For each reward, write the weight on the picture that’s the point where you’ll reward yourself. And start putting away money for it. We live in a day and age where every kid gets a trophy just for showing up. Well this is more than just showing up and you are earning the recognition. If an annual sales trip to Hawaii makes people sell cars or insurance, then why can’t you have mark your milestones?”

“When I hit the 125, I could go to Vegas.”

“Only if you take Mrs. Mulroney with you.”

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