The days are getting longer! The obsessive runs at the gym are getting shorter! The inner critic is getting quieter! All three of these things are terrific. (Whenever I use the word "terrific," I hear Mitt Romney's voice in my head saying "Terrific!" Oh my gawd... Is Mitt my inner critic?! An inner critic wouldn't say "Terrific!" So is Mitt my conscience? Plot twist.)
So I didn't run as much at the gym yesterday or today. And I deserve all of the medals in the world. And clearly I want the medals to be made out of chocolate. No, scratch that. Not a huge fan of chocolate. But I am a ginormous fan of ginormous sandwiches! More than I am of pizza and burritos! So give me all of the sandwiches in the world for slightly lowering my gym time.
Although I am proud of myself -- and, I have to admit, I feel a lot better doing things in moderation -- I can't help but be a little bugged. Shaking off bad habits and old obsessions ain't a breeze, sugar pies. I may want to ditch the critic, but he/she/it sure doesn't want to get rid of me quite yet.
I want to stay motivated. I want to stay inspired by and excited about food. How do I do this? I keep taping episodes of Anthony Bourdain shows to watch at some point. I bought a "feast of delicious writing–food and drink memoirs, short stories, tell-alls, and poems, seasoned with a generous dash of cartoons." (In other words, I purchased Secret Ingredients: The New Yorker Book of Food and Drink.) I plan on collecting a crap ton of recipes and putting them into a nice binder. (A binder full of women! Terrific!) I guess all that's really missing is actually eating and enjoying food, especially in the company of others. Food should be shared. Food brings people together, dammit! Food can even seduce. Hello, ladies and gentlemen. Please peel my grapes and slip an oyster down my throat. WINK WINK.
I gotta start small. Maybe I can make it a goal to get a meal with a friend in the month of March? Just one meal. Just one day. JUST ONE FRIEND. Or two. Two friends would be better because then I don't have to constantly make or pay attention to a conversation. I can zone out while I eat my baked ziti. Okay, I don't even know what ziti is. I know how many points it would be in Scrabble, but I don't know what it tastes like. I have missed out on so many flavors! But that just means that I have so many flavors to discover. That's pretty terrific, if you ask me. Or Mitt. Go ahead, ask Mitt.
Well, now is about the time when I have to decide what to have for dinner. It's one of those decisions that happen to be simultaneously horrific and, yes, terrific. But at least I have already made the decision that I will eat. And that right there deserves a medal sandwich.