A young professional's take on the trials and tribulations of everyday life in New York City.
One (real) day in to 2012 and I am off to a rocky start.
On the one hand, I remain filled with high hopes, ambitions, and excitement for the future. On the other hand, I made the sub-resolution to drastically cut down on carbohydrates in pursuit of my weight loss goal, and now I'm sad. Discipline is just so boring! I've been without bread or pasta for approximately twelve hours, and I think I am dying a slow death from the inside-out. There is a little girl who lives in my brain, and by "little," I mean she's a miniature, live-in-a-brain-sized person who is obviously also obese. She really likes to eat foods in the pizza and "noodles baked under cheese" categories, and when she gets them she does a joyful dance. Her joy is infectious and irresistible. She doesn't care what anyone thinks of her and is only concerned with the extreme happiness she derives from leavened dough.
At the mere mention or insinuation of carbohydrate abstinence—or even diminishment—for any period of time, this little obese girl in my brain has a complete and utter meltdown. Her spark is extinguished. Her disappointment is tragic. She pouts and sulks and sits down and traces little frowny faces into the grey matter with her pudgy finger. She wails and laments the pointlessness that is now her life. She looks murderously over at Mr. Metabolism, the three-toed sloth, slogging his way past her. Then she becomes defiant. She casts off her temper tantrum and outright refuses to cooperate. She demands all manner of bread products at volumes that triple her normal intake. It is all I can do to shut my eyes tight and pretend to enjoy my salad over the din of her outrage.
Kate Moss once said, "nothing tastes as good as skinny feels." I mean, that's easy to say when you're paid a bajillion dollars an hour to look like a beanpole and a bagel is something you've only seen in passing on "The Biggest Loser."
Sorry, Kate Moss. I'm distraught and I'm taking it out on you. I'm only jealous, after all.
N.B. As I wrote this, and the more I thought of the salad I ate for lunch yesterday, I became aware of a gnawing and irrepressible hunger. I began opening desk drawers in desperation (and distraction/procrastination). Unfortunately, I came upon a forgotten bag of free potato chips from Cosi which I'd stashed away for a snack emergency. Needless to say, they have been devoured, and I finish typing on a keyboard now shiny with grease. It was more an act of chip-destruction than of self-destruction, though. They had to go! Now they don't exist for me anymore, and I don't have to worry about eating them. Right? Blurg.
Dear Readers: While I am rarely at a loss for words, I'm always grateful for column ideas. Please feel free to e-mail me your suggestions.
Nina Pajak is a writer and publishing professional living with her husband on the Upper West Side.
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