I have a bad habit. I like McDonalds. Not in a Big Mac, large fry, large drink kind of way. In a breakfast sandwich, mocha frappe, or a snack on the way home kind of way. And I try not to tell Paul about it, but I'm sort of bad about keeping secrets about myself so I usually confess later, but not always. Two Sausage McMuffins on the way to work? A McChicken on the ride home? Sure. As long as I throw the bag away somewhere besides home. These fast-food stops are like pure mouth orgasms as I eat them. My mouth is watering and the greasy, or deep-fried and mayo-coated goodness goes down like butter. Mmmm, I can taste it now just thinking about it. But when I'm finished, when I crumple the paper and put it back in the bag, I feel guilty. I feel stupid. Why did I just do that to myself? I've been good all day, I felt like I deserved it, but does my body deserve that punishment? And then because I didn't tell Paul, I will eat a normal sized dinner so I "look" normal, and he's not suspicious. 'Cuz this girl can eat. I have to be throwing up bile from the pits of hell to not eat.
In retrospect, my fast-food habit is not SO bad. It's not like I eat lunch or dinner at a fast-food joint frequently. In fact, an actual "meal" at fast-food is a "treat" for me. What kind of treat is that? I know everyone says when you start eating healthier, you crave healthy food but gosh damn sometimes I just want a freaking curly fry.
Also, on Mondays when I'm home alone, I don't know how to entertain myself, so I tend to eat a lot on that day too. Already this morning, I'd be embarrass to confess what I've eaten, and it's not even lunch time yet. It could be emotional eating, but it's probably just boredom.
Emotional eating. I don't know if I do that or not. I just eat whenever I feel like it. Which is all the time. On days that my self-diagnosed candida is flaring up, I can eat non-stop all day and never be satisfied. Luckily, today is not one of these days.
Why might I be emotional today? Paul's nephew, age 23 (I think) bought a motorcycle yesterday and promptly crashed it, and was flown to shock-trauma. At first the situation was dire, IF he survived, he would probably lose his arm. As of last night, "they" said it looked like he would pull through, and they did surgery on his arm, but they aren't sure how functional the arm will be. My husband went to work this morning, and we were going to head up to this hospital later in the morning, but he got the wild hair up his butt that he had to go NOW and that he would catch a ride with his cousin, and that he has to stay until late tonight because his uncle will be arriving after 5. And so I'm stuck at home alone all day and night. I wanted to go, but I couldn't stay late, because I have work. I'm so disgusted right now.
And the jalapeno popper dip I just polished off did not make me feel any less disgusted, just more disgusting.
Blog idea: poor self-image
Gym today? Maybe.