Lay off, I'm starving!

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 need Fig Newtons, stat!

I have a tapeworm.

Okay, I don't know if that's technically true. I do, however, absolutely love to eat and it's a rare occasion when I'm not hungry, even right after meals.

Now, I know that's not really out of the ordinary. Lots of people like to eat. Here's what makes my situation a little different:

I'm not obese.
While I have cravings like a pregnant woman, I'm not pregnant.
I'm not, nor have I ever been, a teenage boy.
I'm not, nor will I ever be, training for any sort of endurance challenge like a marathon or a sale at Macy's.

Due to the aforementioned statements, I am led to believe I have a tapeworm. I named him Grady.

Grady is pretty moody and terribly demanding. It doesn't matter if I just finished Thanksgiving linner/dunch (we usually eat at 3pm on Thanksgiving... not sure why) or if I haven't eaten in days. If Grady wants a mixed berry smoothie, he will sing random selections from The Fray until I give in, crying and begging for merciful silence.

Sometimes, Grady is good for me because he is craving fresh fruits or vegetables. Other times, it's waffle fries and Pillsbury cinnamon rolls. Either way, I'm a slave to his wishes. Fortunately, I have found that I can trick him every now and again.

Why, just last night, Grady and I were watching Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle. Given that Grady is highly susceptible to persuasive advertising, he had a major jones for some fast food at the end of the movie. It was about 10pm and the roads were slick with freezing rain and sleet. I, who absolutely hate to drive in any sort of precipitation, was very seriously considering heading to the nearest Wendy's or Steak 'n Shake to stop Grady from his horrifically accurate rendition of "How to Save a Life".

All of a sudden, I had an epiphany. I deduced that all Grady really needed was something fried in a lot of grease or butter. So, in an attempt to throw him off the trail, I fixed a big vat of hash browns and hoovered them before Grady knew what was happening... and it totally worked.

So now, I've taken back some of the power. I know I can't lie to Grady all the time, but at least I can do so when it comes to putting my life in danger.

And now, if you'll excuse me, Grady is making his case for half a brick of colby jack.