Last night, I stood at the kitchen counter, frozen in fear. In front of me was a counter lined with boxes and bags full of horribly fattening (and undeniably delicious) snacks. Doritos, Girl Scout Cookies (CooKIES being the key word: Tagalongs, Samoas, Thin Mints…), a box of Triscuits, a box of Sees candies… I mean, it was a fat fuck’s paradise and I was the queen of the island. But as I eyed the row of all things good, I was suddenly overcome with anxiety. You see, my husband is out of town this week for work and will be traveling off and on for the next 2 months. How will I contain myself with no one watching?
Now that I think about it, we always have “junk food” in our house, and I think visitors have even commented on how come we have all that shit and how is it that we’re not both 750 pounds and stuck in a bedroom with a Nutter Butter up our asses. (Sorry. I got carried away). But the point is, I DO monitor myself… Growing up, my mom NEVER had junk food in the house. Come to think of it, there was never really food in general (Yes, mom, you always has food on the table. But as a hungry, hormonal teen, steamed broccoli and grilled chicken wasn’t what I wanted). So when I would go to friend’s houses, I would raid their pantries looking for the good stuff. In fact, I chose many of my “after school” friendships purely based on what kinds of snacks their moms would offer us when we came home.
But I digress… As I stood in the kitchen, punishing myself in advance for having 1… okay just 2… Oh, who am I kidding, FIVE! thin mints, it occurred to me why single women are either super fat or super skinny (not like us “in between” moms). You’re either the “Sex in the City Girl” who has nothing but baking powder (to keep the “nothing” fresh, of course) and AN egg from 1982… OR your the “Fat Closet Eater Chick” also with nothing in your fridge, BUT open up those cupboards of yours and you’re rockin’ more than just cans of food for Whiskers! You’ve got chips, and popcorn, and cookies, and BonBons (don’t all fat, single chicks have BonBons??)
Okay, fine. Maybe I’m stereotyping just a wee bit here…. especially, since every one of my single girlfriends are gorgeous, fit and like to eat (normally). The point is, left alone to my own devices, I might eat my weight in girl scout cookies and die alone like Mama Kass choking on Triscuits dipped in ice cream. No one was there to stop (i.e. silently judge) me!
Tonight, I have my meal for one already planned out (hello, Smart Ones), accompanied with a glass (or two) of some shitty Cab from Trader Joes. I finally went to Tae Bo and got in a good work out, so I’d like to have some control and refrain from the counter of doom and all that it holds… But if I call you crying because I’ve just eaten a piece of chocolate cake out of the trash can, just don’t tell my husband, okay? He doesn’t need to know everything I do when he’s gone….
FILED UNDER: A Little Life