Wednesday, October 28, 2015

3rd day on #Paleo - haven't killed anyone

So I have not killed anyone and even though I'm not satisfied anytime food goes into my mouth, I'm still alive so I have that going for me which is nice.

I'm still going strong on my premade lunches I made on Sunday. I have a feeling once those are done I will have no idea what to eat. Currently eating grilled chicken and lettuce with a little Italian dressing, sweet potato, cucumber, carrots, banana, pear, and that's it at work. Once I have to think about what I'm eating again I'll become overwhelmed and will probably say "well whatever then you don't eat" just to spite myself. I can't even look at the gross amount of dead chicken corpses I have in my freezer. The thought of eating chicken every ajain makes me want to hurl myself out of a Volkswagen on the highway doing a tuck and roll.

I basically hate eating now. It's like a thing I need to do vs a thing I loved to do. It's funny how taking a few things out of your diet really fucks with your head. I'm convinced I only loved eggs milk and grain before this and could survive off essentially cupcakes forever. As anyone would.

Today I bought two breakfast sausages and some strip of bacon around 10am. It was the best idea ever because I was happy eating for the first time since Sunday. It also filled me and the animal fat I'm convinced kept me going with no light headedness or incoherent rage spells.

I came home and for the first time I wasn't even that hungry. My stomach is definitely shrinking, as I used to consume twice the food and most of it carbs and breads. Now I'm eating half because I can't figure out what else I can eat. And I hate cooking. I get home from work and I'm exhausted and the last thing I want to do is turn on an oven and roast fucking, a squash. Like fuck yourself lol.

So I'm going to head to bulk barn this weekend and try a coconut flour brownie recipe my girlfriend sent me. And you know how brownies are my favourite food, and the trifecta of foods I am not allowed to eat, says my gut.

I came home and had no joke, two spoonfuls of peanut butter and a few strip of bacon, as the glutton in me called out loud and proud like a sassy black woman telling me that I need Jesus after this dinner massacre.

Meanwhile I'm noticing no differences in my sinusitis or my disgusting gut circumference. I thought cutting out this shit would yield immediate gut reduction since I was convinced the gut was bloating and other wonderful gut distress signs from eating bread and that.

And just in time for Halloween I have a scary story. The gut was from the breads? No. No, the gut was from...... the fact I eat fucking brownies literally all the time and is just old fashioned fat and tomorrow I'm going to wake up looking like fucking Randy from trailer park boys and people will start making hilarious cheeseburger jokes and poking my gut saying it looks like I ate a mahfucka.

If I'm going through all this and if I find out that there's nothing wrong with me and I'm just fat, I will... flip... my... shit.

I'm hungry now. I wish I could have have a liquor and cheeseburger party.