I am in love. It is a love that is deep, passionate, full, and unfortunately, a bit one sided. Where as I revere the object of my affection to the inner most chambers of my heart, my love seems to have other plans. Not only does my obsession not have the same lustful feelings as I, but it has launched an offensive attack to big for me to wrap my brain around.
I love food. All kinds. It is this non-discriminatory approach to it that seems to be the problem. I could eat troughs of veggies and fish, but also Cheetos, candy, Oreos, red meat...you name it. Fried, sauteed, baked, grilled, seared. I don't care, just give it to me and give it to me now.
And, like all illicit affairs, it is not coming to a pretty end. But, rather, things seem to be spiraling out of control. The more I want to stop, the more the lust and passion take over. But food in vast quantities is no friend of mine. It knows right where to strike; butt, thighs, abdomen. You name it, it's working its magic; saddle bags, cellulite, muffin top, junk in the trunk.
Ah, but alas, what's a girl to do? One cannot help who (or what) they fall in love with. It is an unavoidable force of nature. So, the infatuation will go on. In the meantime, I am praying that the pilates will help offset the calorie intake. Keep your fingers crossed.
Bon appetit!
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thank you for leaving a comment! You are funky fresh!