I ate Goldfish crackers. Not one, not one serving but an entire bag of Goldfish crackers. Granted they were White Cheddar, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t feel bad about it. The really shit part is the rush I get when I taste the bottom of a nice FlavorBurst bag. The delectable crushed up little bits of heaven that are way too salty to be good, but just salty enough to make me feel like I did when I was 16 and I started smoking because I wanted to be a badass. Funny, I could quit the smoking (after 9 years) but not the Goldfish.
I immediately punished myself by dragging my ass to the gym and calling everyone I know to tell them I ate an entire bag of Goldfish. This included my skinny, pregnant friend who said to me, “That’s not the way it works, you don’t eat the whole bag of Goldfish.” This also includes telling my boyfriend. His response was, “You are beautiful.”
I thought about it as I huffed it out on the treadmill and watched pregnant Kardashians on the screen who weigh less than I do, combined. Just the other day my man and I were talking about whether or not we should move in together or get hitched first. He said he’d seen on TV that people who move in together wind up breaking up. I argued with, “They would probably break up anyway and don’t you think it’s a good idea to preview your significant other’s day to day events?” Then I got to thinking.
Maybe I should get hitched first to him then he won’t dump me for my strange eating habits. But, would I eat an entire bag of Goldfish if I had a witness? Absolutely not. It’s one thing to call up my friends and confess but doing something so shameful in front of another person, forget it! Maybe marriage is the answer to me and the Goldfish…but, then I could hear my tiny pregnant friend’s voice echoing in my head, “That’s not the way it works.” That bitch, that’s the last time I’m calling her to vent. I mean, I already ate my death in salt content I don’t need a lecture on top of it.
Pounds Lost to Date: 8.4
Weeks In: 16
Weeks to Go: 49
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