When I got on the scale this morning and saw that not only have I not lost any weight in the previous 16 days that I've been on a MILITANT diet regimen, but I GAINED half a pound, I realized that my mother was right when she told me (after I gained the freshman 15) (and after I had my kids in my late 20s/early 30s) "Lose that weight now, because if you wait until you get older, you will regret it!" Back then if I even thought about going on a diet, I'd lose five pounds. It was easy. It was simple accounting back then: less calories = lost weight. I thought my mother didn't know what she was talking about because 1) she was my mother, and 2) calories in/calories out, Mom. Easy.
Holy shit, my mom was right. Losing weight in your forties is damn near impossible. So I was crabby about eating so many vegetables with no payback, and crabby because months and months ago I stupidly agreed to take three days of kindergarten this week, and it occurred to me: I have always consistently screwed over Future Me. I agreed to sub for this kindergarten class way back in December or January. The teacher caught me in the hall and asked me and I thought about it. May: WAY in the future, practically spring. Sure, I'll do it. If she would have said, "Can you sub for me three days next week I probably would have made up an excuse because I don't like to screw over Present Me or Short-Term-Future Me, but I have no qualms at all about giving the shaft to Future Me. Fuck her, she can take it.
If I wasn't so inconsiderate to Future Me I probably wouldn't have this extra 30 pounds on me either. I see a donut and think, "I shouldn't eat that. It's not good for me and it's packed with sugar and calories," but I also think, "Who cares! I love chocolate frosting! Diabetes? A fat ass? Who CARES?!? It's not going to happen today! Give me that donut! Up yours, Future me!"
What does this all say about me? It says that I would totally fail that stupid marshmallow/impulse test that some eggheads at Stanford gave to little kids. (But, for the record, I could resist a marshmallow for 20 minutes. Chocolate, no. Marshmallows, yes.)
So what does THAT say about me? It says I'm dim, that's what it says. Well, that might be overstating (hey, what do you expect?), but the study showed that people who can't delay gratification have poorer academic success are less successful in adult life (oh hello, substitute teacher.)
You know what I didn't need to learn about myself on a day I gained half a pound and had to endure a kindergarten job? That I'm not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed. Being the sharpest tool is all I've got, and over the years I've learned my parents aren't anywhere near as dumb as I thought they were, and even my husband isn't a total idiot.
I have to start being nicer to future me. I'm the only thing the chunky old moron has!
Holy shit, my mom was right. Losing weight in your forties is damn near impossible. So I was crabby about eating so many vegetables with no payback, and crabby because months and months ago I stupidly agreed to take three days of kindergarten this week, and it occurred to me: I have always consistently screwed over Future Me. I agreed to sub for this kindergarten class way back in December or January. The teacher caught me in the hall and asked me and I thought about it. May: WAY in the future, practically spring. Sure, I'll do it. If she would have said, "Can you sub for me three days next week I probably would have made up an excuse because I don't like to screw over Present Me or Short-Term-Future Me, but I have no qualms at all about giving the shaft to Future Me. Fuck her, she can take it.
If I wasn't so inconsiderate to Future Me I probably wouldn't have this extra 30 pounds on me either. I see a donut and think, "I shouldn't eat that. It's not good for me and it's packed with sugar and calories," but I also think, "Who cares! I love chocolate frosting! Diabetes? A fat ass? Who CARES?!? It's not going to happen today! Give me that donut! Up yours, Future me!"
What does this all say about me? It says that I would totally fail that stupid marshmallow/impulse test that some eggheads at Stanford gave to little kids. (But, for the record, I could resist a marshmallow for 20 minutes. Chocolate, no. Marshmallows, yes.)
So what does THAT say about me? It says I'm dim, that's what it says. Well, that might be overstating (hey, what do you expect?), but the study showed that people who can't delay gratification have poorer academic success are less successful in adult life (oh hello, substitute teacher.)
You know what I didn't need to learn about myself on a day I gained half a pound and had to endure a kindergarten job? That I'm not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed. Being the sharpest tool is all I've got, and over the years I've learned my parents aren't anywhere near as dumb as I thought they were, and even my husband isn't a total idiot.
I have to start being nicer to future me. I'm the only thing the chunky old moron has!
Hahaha, I can totally relate. My f-u to future me was in the form of tanning.
ReplyDelete"What? Me, be careful? I'm Mexican, I'm MADE to tan. It's those poor caucasians with the fair skin who need to be careful."
Turns out even Mexicans get leathery, wrinkly, and spotted.
i do that all the time! i'm always thinking, "why not eat chicken strips for lunch? it's not like three of them are going to make me fatter." um, yeah, but eating them isn't exactly making me thinner, is it? i was all ready to start being, "i'm just genetically fat! i swear!" when i started eating only oatmeal for breakfast and way more veggies with my lunch a few weeks ago. you know what happened? i lost five pounds. just eating more carrot sticks and oats, like a horse. which pissed me off because i guess these extra pounds i'm carrying around aren't genetic destiny, they're something i can actually work on and improve. shit.
ReplyDeleteEAting like a horse: LOL. Hey, maybe I am genetically meant to be this fat??? I never thought of that!
DeleteI need a better mindset. I usually think, "I should eat that extra donut now before I get diabetes and can't eat them ever again."
ReplyDeleteThat is glass-half-full self-sabotage! Way to go!
Deletethat picture is so wrong... and hilarious.
ReplyDeleteIt's gross isn't it?
DeleteSugar addict! Me too!
ReplyDeleteI've pretty much given up refined sugar lately and I can honestly say I don't miss it very much. Maybe there is hope for me yet???
DeleteThe joke in the first line WAS funny! You're on a roll with the horse jokes. As for teenage ennui, Yuck. I think I have it again now in my forties. I could use a caring step-mom because my bio mom is all, "You're in your forties, for Christ's sake!" and it's not exactly helping.
ReplyDeleteSeriously though, you are a great step mom. Being there is 90% of parenting and you've got that going on. I'm sure that they both adore you, and even if they don't now, they will in the future.
I've been eating like a horse for the past 30 years....didn't know I was supposed to be eating carrots and oats!! Now you tell me!
ReplyDelete