Now, I’m going to be honest. I’m an honest person about most things, just not what I eat.
The week running up to Christmas, I pretty much had Chinese takeaway every night. It reached the point where I asked my parents, my sister, or my brother who is 11, to answer the door. I was too embarrassed. It was the same delivery guy every time. You think that would have been a sign for me to stop, right? Well, it should have been. And that”s not even the worst part.
I never eat it all, when I order. The leftovers go in the fridge and the next day I cook it and eat it for breakfast. Yes, BREAKFAST. I ate egg fried rice at 9am in the morning. I knew it was bad. Don’t we all? But we can’t stop.
What is it about take-away that is so addictive? It’s not caffeine. It’s not drugs (that I know.) It’s food. Greasy food, sure, but food. Fast food. I have discovered why they call it that; because that’s the best adjective to describe how I consume it.
It takes the opposite to lose it, though – the weight, I mean. During December I gained a lot of weight and my favorite bra is now too tight to wear. What a sad thing, when those things most enjoyable and delicious, hurt us like that?
But it hit, with January starting two weeks ago. My new years resolution – as always – is to lose weight and be healthy. So far, I’m doing good. It’s a struggle, but I have the bra hung over my wardrobe, reminding me.
There was no real point to this, I just wanted to share how angry I am with myself and amuse you, really, because you might feel what the delivery guy felt when he saw my address pop up on their computer. Har, har, har.