January 17, 2012: Down a pound to 333. The train has left the station and we are on the move. 17 lbs. down.
I didn’t get shit done this weekend, but I stayed the course, and dammit, that’s good enough for now. Everything else mostly has to be on hold (though I’m trying so hard to be in the moment with my family). I don’t work hard at all at my job, I’m not even currently mentally present when I’m there, but I DON’T CARE. It’s more important to spend my workday thinking really hard about how not to think about food. I’ll be better at work later.
January 17th, 2020 (retrospective): More about my buffet woes. Here was the mental battle I waged with myself as I envisioned people watching me approach the buffet line: Where should I be in the line? How many trips should I take? My God that ham that the chef with the white-stovepipe hat is carving up looks honey roasted and supreme. Oh geez, there’s shrimp-cocktail and clam chowder with big clams, and the cheesiest pasta dish I’ve ever seen. I think I see chocolate caramel brownies and cake with buttercream frosting at the end there, and yep, a huge pile of assorted cookies on the farthest table that has the pink tablecloth. But my eyes have to focus in closer on the fuckin watermelon and vegetable tray. I don’t want anyone to think I’m not on a diet, because all fat people ought to be on a diet right? Or maybe to hell with all of them, I’ll go through that buffet like a pack of termites through a two-by-four, like a pig on slop. I’ll go over and over again and make them all sick to their stomachs.
Compromise. Go the middle road. I look to see what the average eater puts on his plate and I go through the line about midway among the rest of the diners. My face feels hot and my pants feel tight and I have a little bit of forehead sweat because I know everyone’s looking at me. I get a cup of vegetables, a twice-baked potato, one slice of ham, and a cookie. This is not even a stomach tickle for me, and later on it will only make me binge harder when I’m in hiding at home, but right now I’ll just leave some people confused, and others just saying to themselves “he’ll just get the same as everyone else is getting because he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself. And then later on he’ll just go home and pig out where nobody can see him.” The latter group of people are correct, and I hate them for it.
