“Can You Please Buy Me Some Cheesy Poofs…?”

My boyfriend came home from work about 9PM yesterday, and I really wanted a cheeseburger, some pizza, or cheesy poofs. I decided that the cheesy poofs were small so that would be the lesser of three evils.

He said, “Aren’t you on a diet?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want real food!”

“Well, I’m tired and it’s been a long day…why don’t you go get something to eat yourself?”

“I’m not wearing any shoes!”

I was also thinking, Tina probably has my mugshot posted in every fast food joint in SoCal, with the caption “Do not feed! She is  supposed to be on a diet, so if she asks for anything with a bun or fries, JUST SAY NO!”, so maybe it’s not a good idea to be seen in public asking for a large fry and double cheeseburger.

But the bottom line is, I didn’t get any non-diet food.

I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that this diet isn’t about moderation in the first stages, because I could definitely moderate some cheesy poofs right about now…mmm cheesy poofs…

Dialogue between my over-fed brain and my logic:

Brain: Come on, one cheesy poof won’t hurt, right?!

Logic: Not today, but it will tomorrow when you weigh in…

Brain: Well, this is today, so let’s get some poofs…oops, I mean just one!

Logic: Aha, YOU LIE!

Brain: I don’t know what you’re talking – wait, see? Your old pal Stomach is growling!

Stomach: FEED ME, SEYMOUR!

Brain: See, he’s so hungry, he’s delirious!

Logic: I can’t; you’re on a structured eating plan, and…

Stomach: I DON’T CARE! FEED ME!!!

Logic: Brain, if you’d shut up, Stomach would be fine right now. Look what you did!

Brain: Once again, I don’t know what you’re talking about, so I’m ignoring you now. Sam, foodfoodfoodfoodfoodfoodfoodfoodfoodfoodfoodfoodfoodfoodfoodfoodfoodfoodfoodfoodfoodfood…

Me: Stop it!

Brain: Well, since I can’t have what I really want, I’ll torture you instead!

See what I have to deal with? Sigh.