I ate all the things today. I’m noticing that when I deviate from consistency, I fall off the precipice. Precipice here being into the deep dark that is carbohydrate, her refered to forever forth in the pejorative as crapohydrates. I have low tolerance for them. Maybe even no tolerance.
Not in a bigotry sense, though if my avoidance of them were as severely emotional as many anti-gay asshats I’d problem stick to my guns better.
Nonetheless, it’s a long fall and I’m battered against the wals as a go. Occasionally there is a handhold where I faceplate and I can start the climb back up. These handholds like "more bacon" or "ignore the entree bar" or "being shamed by friends" work for a time. It seems inevitable that I backslide to some decree, trip and fall into an alcove of iced creams and cakes.
I am unsure if I’ll ever be perfect. And maybe accepting that is the key so as to minimize the distance of the fall. It’s like tethering to the all and limiting the potential energy of a fall, using it to swing back and back up one handful of bacon at a time.
Lunch: watermelon salad, zucchini quesadilla, weird coconut custard thing with pistachio.
Verona, Wisconsin, United States