Grady is back.
(I like to think he looks something like this.)
It has been weeks since I've heard from Grady. In fact, it had been so long, I'd almost forgotten he was even living inside me and consuming all my nutrients.
Well, all good things must come to an end.
It didn't take me long to figure out why he was back either. It's not rocket science after all.
I was on a diet. Plain and simple.
So, for two weeks, I ate meat, vegetables and cheese. At the end of that two weeks, I tossed that diet in the toilet. I always do this, by the way. I go through diet phases where I eat very restricted "meals", but then convince myself that I'm a big girl (no, I'm not) and I can control what I eat (no, I can't), so I don't need a diet (well, that part is true). When I leave the diet, Grady is always there to make up for any pounds and all calories lost.
Fictitious bastard.
This morning, I woke up totally dehydrated, so I skipped my usual coffee. I also opted to have some yogurt for breakfast, which I usually omit completely during the week. Not a bad start, right?
Imagine my surprise when I got to work and immediately started seducing the vending machine with my eyes (I was out of quarters). I usually sneer at the vending machine and all the evil it holds inside. This morning, however, I was having some very inappropriate fantasies about a pre-packaged, cinnamon pastry.
I took action with the only tools at my disposal: I ate my lunch.
At 9:30am, I ate my peanut butter and jelly sandwich (with strawberry jelly, thank you) and a colby jack cheese stick. (I also had some Goldfish crackers in a drawer, but I was pretty sure if I didn't actually look at them, Grady wouldn't know they were there.)
An hour later, I was hungry again and I knew this wouldn't be the end of it, either. This time it was just an innocent PB&J, but next time... next time, it would be much worse.
You never know when a four-course meal or the third tier of a wedding cake will just be lying around, tempting Grady... tempting me...
Americans, hide your cheeseburgers!
Frenchies, stow your baguettes!
Brits, put away your mince meat!
Poles, cover your pierogies!
This could get ugly.
(I like to think he looks something like this.)It has been weeks since I've heard from Grady. In fact, it had been so long, I'd almost forgotten he was even living inside me and consuming all my nutrients.
Well, all good things must come to an end.
It didn't take me long to figure out why he was back either. It's not rocket science after all.
I was on a diet. Plain and simple.
So, for two weeks, I ate meat, vegetables and cheese. At the end of that two weeks, I tossed that diet in the toilet. I always do this, by the way. I go through diet phases where I eat very restricted "meals", but then convince myself that I'm a big girl (no, I'm not) and I can control what I eat (no, I can't), so I don't need a diet (well, that part is true). When I leave the diet, Grady is always there to make up for any pounds and all calories lost.
Fictitious bastard.
This morning, I woke up totally dehydrated, so I skipped my usual coffee. I also opted to have some yogurt for breakfast, which I usually omit completely during the week. Not a bad start, right?
Imagine my surprise when I got to work and immediately started seducing the vending machine with my eyes (I was out of quarters). I usually sneer at the vending machine and all the evil it holds inside. This morning, however, I was having some very inappropriate fantasies about a pre-packaged, cinnamon pastry.
I took action with the only tools at my disposal: I ate my lunch.
At 9:30am, I ate my peanut butter and jelly sandwich (with strawberry jelly, thank you) and a colby jack cheese stick. (I also had some Goldfish crackers in a drawer, but I was pretty sure if I didn't actually look at them, Grady wouldn't know they were there.)
An hour later, I was hungry again and I knew this wouldn't be the end of it, either. This time it was just an innocent PB&J, but next time... next time, it would be much worse.
You never know when a four-course meal or the third tier of a wedding cake will just be lying around, tempting Grady... tempting me...
Americans, hide your cheeseburgers!
Frenchies, stow your baguettes!
Brits, put away your mince meat!
Poles, cover your pierogies!
This could get ugly.
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