I walked out of lunch today feeling extremely full. So full that it was uncomfortable to walk so I turned to my boss who was next to me to complain about. I’m very good at complaining.
Me: You know those poor Ethiopian children who are so starved their poor tummies are distended?
Boss: Yeah I’m involved in programs that sponsor them.
Me: Oh, well I ate so much that I feel like my stomach is distended. Just like the poor Ethiopian children only not hungry. Cause I think I ate enough for 10 Ethiopian children. In fact, I probably consumed the volume of at least 2 Ethiopian children. Maybe 3 if they were very small.
I then had a flashback to dirty dancing where Baby complains about all the food being wasted and said something about starving children in Africa and her dad (Daddy) calls over the waiter to have all the food shipped to Africa and they all share a silly smile that is meant to be this bonding moment when children really ARE starving in Africa. This all happens before that really awkward moment when Baby carries that watermelon in to the sexy dance party and says, “I carried a watermelon.” Yeah. That is the most awkward moment ever. Anyways… back to me.
So I decided that I should go on a diet to save the starving children of Africa and avoid any watermelon carrying moments (although I wouldn’t mind dirty dancing with Patrick Swayze). I turned to our resident expert on diets, the office Epidemiologist (whom I love by the way).
Me: EPI, what’s the best diet?
EPI: Eat right for your blood type.
Me: What if I don’t know my blood type?
EPI: Siiiiiilence. She is on to me.
Me: You should do the Meth diet with me.
Usually I can trap her into a riveting conversation about strange things like this but she was too quiet. So I called my mom.
Me: Mom, you should do the Meth diet with me.
Mom: Katie, you shouldn’t even joke around with stuff like that. You could get in trouble and get fired.
Me: But I would be skinny right? Riiiiiiiight?
Mom: Is that the only thing that matters to you?
Me: Yes. That and avoiding watermelons.
Mom: Well you could just take up smoking. Smoking made me thin years ago.
Me: MOTHER! I am appalled that you would suggest something so dangerous to my health!
Mom: I smoked when I was pregnant with you. It was OK back then. That’s why you are so messed up.
Me: I could smoke Meth right? That’s how it’s done? Then I could be messed up and thin.
That conversation didn’t carry very far. Apparently meth is just as bad as smoking tobacco. But I’m thinking that if someone could invent something like meth without all the crazy bleach, brake fluid, chicken blood and dragon scales then we could lose weight quickly, without all the work of a real diet. We could avoid the pock marked skin from constantly picking and we wouldn’t develop the strange tweeker walk that looks like a Monty Python silly walk contest gone bad. Did you know that in Arizona 24.7% of adults are obese? That means a body mass index or BMI of over 30. Yeah, that’s me and about 1 out of every 4 of you who are reading this. Do you know what that makes me want to do? Do you? It makes me want to eat a burrito. Seriously. It does. Cause I’m addicted to food. Not meth, just food.
At this point I could continue this blog post and go into some of the devastating thoughts in my head about my body image and my love of food or I could give you more facts about obesity or drug abuse and turn this into a feel good public health message but I don’t wanna. Instead I’m going to go into self denial about my fat and laugh about what a funny blog post I did about the Meth diet. And make you all feel slightly uncomfortable reading it. Just like Baby felt when she carried that watermelon into the super sexy dance party and declared it to the hottest guy in the place: Patrick mother loving Swayze.