I CAN HAS MELTDOWN

I'm five days into turning over a new leaf with my eating habits, and it's going very well. I'm in the zone... back in the saddle... up on the wagon. It feels so good to be back in control! I'm down five pounds of the 11 I was up. I'll take that for now. I know there's more weight loss where that came from. This ain't my first rodeo, after all.

So I'm working along yesterday morning, feeling great about the world, life in general and that I'm a few ell-bees closer to fitting into my favorite pair of Joe's jeans... when BAM! An Outlook invite (on my business email) pops up, titled "Exercise & Eat Healthy Today". That's all it says. No words of encouragement... no atta girl, you can do it... no text at all... no other email recipients: Just a singular event for me to accept or decline. Frankly, it hit me like a swift upper cut. Am I not worthy as an employee and a human being because I weigh more than I did last year when I was hired? Oh, did I forget to mention this came from my boss? Admittedly, I've known him a lot longer than I've worked here, but still...

Tacky. Tacky. Tacky. And technically, in violation of the absurdly extensive company policies that fill a giant three-ring binder and have to re-issued and signed annually. We've just crossed the line between business correspondence and personal needling, in my mind.

See, here's the backstory. Glenn and I dieted together at UAMS in '09. It really, really chapped him when I reached my goal weight and he didn't, and he's told me on numerous occasions that he felt very competitive about the process. Although I didn't know it at the time and he was outwardly encouraging, he was ticked that I "beat" him (his term, not mine). So much for motivating each other, eh? And while I was busy gaining all of my weight back, he continued dieting and has maintained. I'm genuinely happy for him and his good health; I just wish I'd been as stalwart. But after all of this history and several other similar incidents, inviting me to "Exercise & Eat Healthy Today" makes me feel a lot of different things: (1) That you don't sincerely wish for me to succeed and this is a kindly veiled attempt to sabotage me (2) That, as my employer, you're trying to now micro-manage my personal life as well as my work and (3) If your intentions were good, wow, you're really an insensitive dope!

After contemplating it, I decided to just ignore the email invitation. I mean, that should give anyone the hint, right? I mean, if I'm on track, I don't need even the friendliest of reminders. And if I've strayed today, I sure don't want anyone rubbing my nose in the failure. Even if you're trying to be supportive, sending something like this is really a lose/lose gamble.

So imagine my surprise, this morning, when yesterday's date had been canceled and the blessed event had been rescheduled... for today!

This time, I clicked "decline" at warp speed. (Well, as soon as I read it three times and got over my initial disbelief that the insensitive lout had the nerve to edit and re-send the same invitation that I didn't respond to yesterday).

I'm not upset, just flabbergasted. Weight gain is a sore subject for any woman. But I have to admit that if he re-sends this same invitation tomorrow, I will be countering with a proposed new invitation of my own, titled My Weight Is Not A Work-Related Calendar Entry, So Back Off!

GLUTTONY, THY NAME IS JULES

Whoa, Nelly. I've gained a whopping eleven pounds since I fell off the wagon at the end of June, so tomorrow (and isn't it always tomorrow with dieting?) the UAMS program begins anew. That being said, you can pretty well guess what this means for today:


It's BACCHANALIA BINGEFEST 2011... PART DEUX, baby!

I treated myself to lunch at Chick-Fil-A earlier. And as I ate my cool wrap, I seriously ogled the gi-normous packet of Cardini's Caesar dressing, pondering the last glorious drops that might be hiding in the bottom corners of pouch. The thought actually entered my mind, "If I punctured this bag with a straw, I could drink it like a juice box."

I am one sick puppy.

So I medicated myself with a final jaunt to Community Bakery this afternoon. Several delightful confections later, my waistband is tight and I've crashed from the sugar. But look lively, Jules! Snap to! You have work to do... the day's not over... there are calories yet to be consumed!

The psychology of starting a diet is such a predictable thing for me. It's a "get it while you can" frenzy with all the foofaraw of a last meal on death row. All the favorite dishes are requested, and the consumption presents all the charm and etiquette of a herd of boars savaging each other to get to the trough. In other words, it ain't pretty, folks. And it doesn't matter how committed I am to the process of losing weight, the day before is always the same. If you've ever watched Celebrity Rehab and seen the users and losers "fixing" in the town car on the way to rehab, it's a completely relatable mindset. It's one of the things I most despise about having such an unhealthy relationship with food. I can't seem to master a normal, healthy balance of just eating in moderation. Balance, what a concept. My gastrinomical pendulum swings from subsisting on 800 calories a day to eating like there's no tomorrow.

And speaking of tomorrow, it's back to the aforementioned 800 calories per day. But tonight? Oh no. Tonight, it's off to Copeland's for my next "Last Supper". Oh yes, and let's not forget dessert! I've been wondering all day: Will it be the cheesecake or the chocolate tall cake?

Wish me luck.