This morning I sat in traffic wishing that there were two of me. It would give me someone to talk to while I sat in traffic who would know exactly what I wanted to hear but who might just be in a cranky enough mood to give me the bitchy response I really needed. But really what I wanted was to be able to drop myself off at Starbucks so I could pick up an iced tea while I was filling my car with gas.
Let’s pause to appreciate how I was able to fill my tank for $36 today. I can’t remember the last time I did that. I would have been really impressed to learn that when I picked myself up at Starbucks.
Don’t read that sentence twice.
But then it occurred to me that if there were two of me, one of us probably wouldn’t be doing the Whole30 and that one would be at Starbucks getting the breakfast I wanted this morning and loving every bite of it with its cheesy, carby goodness and washing it down with a lite frappachino and holy gosh I would be even crankier than I already am about this self-inflicted form of torture. I know, I know, I brought this on myself and no one has any sympathy.
Only when I think about it now I’m a little excited for the end of this when I can get myself a lite frappachino and hopefully it won’t taste like it needs sugar. Not that I am trife enough to add sugar to a lite frappachino (no offense if you do that) but usually when I drink them I think about how much better it would taste if I’d gotten the real thing. Judging by the fact that I had a banana this morning that tasted really sweet I hope that’s the case. I’ve never had a banana before and thought “this tastes sweet to me,” but this one did and I get that fruit varies but I feel like I’m just detoxing enough that I can recognize those subtleties for a change.
On the other hand that thought scares me a little because exactly how desensitized was I before? Or was I just not paying attention? Because, honestly, I’ve never paid SO MUCH obsessive attention to my food before. Sometimes it feels like every meal is the last one I’ll get only I’m trying to eat it as fast as possible so I don’t notice that it’s not exactly what my mouth wants to be eating right then.
Part of me wonders if this is going to destroy me and if I won’t be able to eat everything I love after this and that thought alone is enough to make me want to quit right now before I do the damage. The other part of me thinks I sound exactly like an addict when I say things like that and that’s why I just keep going because I have to prove to myself I’m not some kind of junkie.
Except that the first part of me is now making a VERY convincing argument that “Red Velvet Junkie” would be a really freaking adorable blog name. Please hold while I google that.
Nothing comes up. Oh my gosh, it’s mine now.
Don’t ask me what I’ll do with it cause I have no idea. Yes I do. Wait, no. I don’t know.
I know what I want to do with it but it’s something that I should refrain from doing because just yesterday I was having a conversation with my trainer, Jason, about how awesome the month of December was when all I did was bake all the time. Only it wasn’t awesome at all because it destroyed everything I had accomplished so far. Only I love baking and I miss the heck out of it which reminds me I am like 200 years behind on my Baking Happiness project.
So what I really need is a taste tester to stand next to me while I bake so I can be sure everything is turning out okay only they would actually have to stand in the next room and wait until I called them in because you all know I hate baking with an audience.
And I hope this post explains to you in some small way why you should not try to stay up late finishing The Bloggess‘s book Let’s Pretend this Never Happened because even though it’s amazing and has you cracking up you WILL fall asleep and then your dreams will be weird and you’ll wake up with crazy ideas like how if there were two of you one of you could blog as the Red Velvet Junkie while the other one of you could be doing the absurd diets. Only you’d have to take turns doing the diets because one of you would just be a bitch otherwise. Is that really crazy? I think it just makes a lot of sense.
Or maybe this is a cry for help because Whole30 is rotting my brain. I’m clearly not the right person to make that call right now.