So what you guys don't know is that not only did I stop my diet, but I've put all that weight back on again. When I dropped those ten pounds--and only ten, mind you--I was able to do something I'd never done in my life. I was able to tuck my t-shirts into my underwear. Now, this may be no special thing to the men out there with flat bellies (except that you might not be a t-shirt/underwear tucker) but I saw this in a few locker rooms and I tried it. It's remarkably efficient for preventing the t-shirt to come unmoored later in the day. The underwear band really grips that sucker.
Anyway, doing that simple act made me realize that I had actually lost the gut. In two weeks of Nutrisystems, I had lost my gut. Well, it's back. I can't tuck my t-shirts anymore without looking like I'm smuggling a bowling ball out of the house. Well, a small bowling ball.
I'm reporting this because this is about to change, again. And it's about to change for a very good reason. My Grizzbabe was diagnosed with Type 2 Diabetes. She's going to blog about it, but I'm beating her to the punch. When she informed me, I went into comforting-her mode, and pointed out all the positives that comes from having to monitor your sugar intake, and all the health benefits attached thereupon. And the hypocrisy stick bashed me square over the head as I typed the words out. Because what did I know? I wasn't the one who was faced with mandatory dieting. I was, however, the one ranting about buttercream icing. Idiot.
Here I am extolling the vices of irresponsible eating while My Grizzbabe faces a disease that will change her eating habits, like, for the rest of her life. And I thought, why should she have to do that alone? And why should I keep indulging in food orgies when there are so many people forced to do differently?
So no more downward spiral. Every time I tried to diet, it was for vanity. Now it's for Grizzbabe, and every other person out there who has to regulate their eating ... or die, basically.
We humans are ridiculous. We create things that destroy us. We spend frivolously on things that cause us irreparable harm. We support industries that if left unchecked, would destroy us as a global civilization.
And speaking of ... Worst Case Scenario Man has struck again. The news about Grim Jester's lady is terminal. Such a mess. But I did barge into his life yesterday, and it was a good visit. He was receptive and I didn't have to do anything therapeutic except be there. But he was every bit the Grim that I knew he could be in times when I call him my friend and mean it. His commitment to his girlfriend is the stuff of legend. My respect for him, despite all the things that piss me off about him, has quadrupled exponentially. All the times that he's come through for me, I now know that to be the real Grim.
And again it reminds me, who am I to squander my ability--my privilege--to be in good health?