Hot dogs and white bread

I've fallen off the bandwagon a bit, I'll admit it. It's been more of a slow and steady dismount. Like a gimpy tumble. When I started this blog, I was so hopeful and empowered...I was convinced that this time would be different, this time it would STICK and my life would be gumdrops and rainbows and rollerskates and size 12 pants. I lost 4 lbs in the first week, I stopped drinking Red Bull entirely, I started actually USING my fabulous tie dyed steel Nathan water bottle...but as the days got darker and rainier and significantly more dismal and disgusting, I fell on my sufficiently padded ass.

It's easy for me to procrastinate and excuse my actions----to tell myself that it's alright to hibernate in my bedroom adding movies to my Netflix queue, religiously watching Grey's Anatomy and drinking PBR---because it's just a funk, it'll pass and I'll pull myself up by my boot straps (uh shoelaces) tomorrow.

Well, news flash, it isn't excusable. Sure, it's okay to slip up and occasionally be an antisocial bum who sleeps with a Winnie the Pooh stuffed animal, but I told myself I would stick with this, for the sake of my own health and happiness. There are always going to be gray rainy days, sad days, so-discouraged-I-want-to-punch-inanimate-objects days. It's easy to make the right decisions on good days when the sun is shining and the birds are chirping and I'm absolutely chipper; I need to learn to do so on the days when I'm not. And THAT is the real challenge.

After work on Tuesday, I went grocery shopping for the first time in over a month. I've been subsisting on flatbreads on campus, Quiznos and residual left-over food like ramen noodles and chicken noodle soup. Typically, when I go grocery shopping I head straight for the 'Healthy Choice' frozen meals that taste like cardboard and the Rice A Roni whose preservatives are so strong you can feel them corroding your taste buds. I like food that I can make in less than five minutes and take out the door with me because I'm one busy lady, hence my atrocious fast food habits.

Megan, Sarah and Alison were constantly cooking and baking these culinary masterpieces last year. I would walk into the kitchen and it would smell like the stuff of dreams...stir fry, fucking delectable pasta dishes, homemade hummus, you name it...our pantry was like a whole foods store.

And me? Hot dog on white bread. I ate hot dogs on white bread.

 

And mind you, they never let me live it down and constantly laughed at me...because my eating habits were the polar opposite of theirs. Not because I actually ENJOY hot dogs on white bread (okay, maybe a little)...I love me some vegetables and soysage just as much as the next girl. No, because I never had (or took) the time or energy to valiantly attempt cooking. WELL, my friends, that is all about to change.

This time when I went grocery shopping, I didn't buy instant mashed potatoes, I bought a BAG of potatoes. I didn't buy instant rice, I bought a BAG of whole grain rice. I bought carrots and radishes and green peppers and cucumbers and apples and oh it was glorious, GLORIOUS! Anticlimactic, you say? When I came home from practice Wednesday and ate a fresh green pepper, THAT was climactic. Like orgasm in the mouth climactic. I was raised (mostly) in a house where fruits and vegetables were plentiful and my mom was constantly watching her weight, eating 100 calorie bags of popcorn, cucumber and potato skins to survive. You don't need to twist my arm to eat vegetables, it's just getting into the habit of having them present in the fridge when I'm hungry. It's getting into the habit of having ANYTHING present in the fridge when I'm hungry.

Truth is, I'm awful at taking care of myself. Sure, I bathe and clothe myself, I manage to pay my bills (albeit sometimes a few weeks late) and do my work like a good girl but somewhere along the way I missed the lesson where you learn to feed yourself adequately and nutritiously. My parents were both busy or employed growing up and other than the occasional delicious meal when my mom would get home from work early, I fended for myself which usually involved not eating or eating poorly.

When I was 16, I got a job at the mall and found myself gainfully employed with spare cash in the land of Taco Bell, Burger King, Quiznos and Flaming Wok. That didn't bode well, and that coupled with dining hall food freshmen year? Recipe for disaster, literally. I moved out on my own my sophomore year and had hardly any money to my name. I could barely pay my bills and I just ate corn nibblets, ramen and Banquet meals religiously.

Freshmen 20. Sophomore 20. Junior 20. And here I am.

It's never too late to grow up a little, learn something new, slice and dice and saute some shit...I mean, how hard can it be?

And for the record, I didn't buy hot dogs. Or white bread.