O: 1/29/03

Work Diary, 1/29/03

I don't think this diet thing is working out. True, I've managed to
drink a Slim Fast shake at night for dinner, but later I'm crawling the
walls with carb cravings. I don't feel like I'm starving but I
certainly feel deprived. I can't decide which is worse.

I failed completely on Sunday, when I bought a microwaveable lasagna
and a pint of Ben &; Jerry's ice cream. B &; J has come out with
a new line: They mix three different ice creams together so you really
can have it all. It's diabolical, really, because you think, "I'll just
eat the toffee crunch vanilla part and save the rest for later."
Instead, twenty minutes after opening the pint, you're scraping your
spoon across the bottom, reaching for that last dollop of
peanut-butter-and-chocolate-chunk. Bastards.

My co-workers' response to my diet: Caramels, cake, and bags of Fritos.
I've tried explaining that I don't consider myself overweight; instead,
I'm just trying to lose that extra layer of fat that seems to sneak up
on men my age. I want my work at the gym to actually show up, and I
want to fit into the various pairs of pants hanging in my closet and
currently gathering dust. My fellow employees, however, just shake
their heads and imply I'm anorexic. One in particular has been on a
diet for the past seventeen years, and has lost exactly one-and-a-half
pounds. How can I expect her to take me seriously?

My co-workers are also full of advice. For instance, they suggest I try
the all-meat diet, which throws your system into ketosis and burns fat.
It also gives you horrible breath, crawling skin syndrome, and
constipation. I know, because I've already tried it. Eating meat
morning, noon, and night had me at the grocery store buying a box of
laxatives to cure the constipation. On a positive note, I discovered
that buying laxatives is the last remaining thing I'm mortified to do
in public.

One co-worker pointed out that if I continue lifting weights, the new
muscle will push out my layer of fat, thus making me look even fatter.
Another suggested an epidermal cream that dissolves fat and sends it
back into your system to be used as energy (or, as I believe, right
back into your already clogged arteries). My manager keeps leaving
these paper thin, tasteless wafers on my desk. She buys them in the
kosher section of the grocery store, and believes they swell up in your
stomach and make you feel less hungry. Unfortunately, they are a cross
between cardboard and asbestos, and send me searching for those
deliciously salty peanut rolls with a caramel center.

So, in about four months I'll be heading to Mexico with my sister,
who's had her hair cut a la Jennifer Aniston for the occasion (still de
rigeur, apparently, in Texas). While I have every desire to look like
Brad Pitt, I'm no fool. Also, I have a life. If I lose the weight, I
lose it. If not, I wasn't too keen on exposing my body to the sun's
lethal rays, anyway. Besides, there's always the tried-and-true method
of cigarettes and Diet Pepsi, which might turn me into a raving shrew
but, hey, look at the results!