Hunger

I went to the deli for yogurt tonight, in honor of my new diet. My friend Nancy is doing it, and we call it ‘The Eat Less Diet’. The simple premise is that you ingest fewer calories than you burn. Nancy has lost 20 pounds in less than two months, and she looks amazing. I want to look amazing, too.

I’m going on this diet because I eat like a man. I manage to eat enormous amounts of food and somehow fit into size 6 pants. One day, this ability will vanish and I will become a monster, and the prospect of this frightens me.

I eat more than my boyfriend Mark does, yet he's much more muscular and six inches taller than me. I think I have a problem.

Last night’s dinner, for instance, was leftover stuffed cabbage. We reheated three plump servings in the oven, soaked in their savory tomato sauce. Mark was gracious and served me two of the three servings, announcing that he was making himself a proper grilled cheese sandwich.

I raced through the two stuffed cabbages in their delicious sauce, followed by a grilled cheese sandwich for dessert. This morning I woke up and decided to start the diet.

I’m curious to see how this goes. For exercise, I’ve joined a nearby gym. When I’ll find the time to go is beyond me, but this gym is open an improbable 24-hours a day, so there are no excuses. I plan to get back to free weights, the elliptical machine and the dreaded treadmill, all devices of torture that I visited regularly before I met Mark, eighteen months and ten pounds ago.

I tell people I’m dieting for my health. In truth, I’m dieting so not to become a monster. The world has too many monsters, after all.

Note:
A proper grilled cheese sandwich begins with a griddle, then white bread with butter face down, then two slices of American cheese in the middle, finished with white bread with butter face up. They are delicious.

Photo by Lopolis.