Fat Free

Remember the 90s, when all you had to worry about was fat content? In the 90s, calories supposedly didn’t matter, you just had to watch your fat intake.

So if it was fat free, we’d eat like 100 of them in a sitting. I drank Coke after Coke after Coke every weekend night at Denny’s. Also cheese fries, which were definitely not fat free. And I don’t mean that nasty cheese sauce that people love, I mean real, shredded cheddar, melted onto spicy fries.

Yes, we spent our weekends doing late night at Denny’s. Don’t laugh! It was where all the cool kids (weirdos) hung out. But that’s a different, much older post.

Thing is, I stayed thin in the 90s. Was there something to that fat free business?

I don’t really think so. Fat free often means they jack up the sugar and the calories to make up for lost taste. I think it’s six of one, half dozen of the other. I just burned it all off at dance. I took vigorous dance lessons, probably at least four or five hours a week. It was my sport in high school. Plus, I power walked.

I think I’ve discovered something, here, though. I’ve never been good at moderation. I’m always pounding something, whether it be soda, Tic Tacs, or dehydrated marshmallows. I’ve got to unlearn that, somehow.

I’ve gone through more, damn dehydrated marshmallows than I care to admit. I think I’m going to get little snack-sized baggies, portion them out for Aislyn, and have them locked up in the vault.

In all seriousness, the lockbox has helped a little. I sometimes will ask for something from it, but it’s always just one of whatever I ask for. So I’m not eating two or three fudge rounds in one night.

Please don’t judge, my readers. I know I’m eating a lot. Sometimes I’m not even hungry. Sometimes I crave something crunchy, or chewy between my teeth. Sometimes I’m mad. There are a million reasons to overeat. I have to go back to all my reasons not to: my why’s.

I’m looking forward to tomorrow’s workshop, even if I am worried about weigh-in. They’re my peeps. They know me, have good insights. We’re a community. A month of Sundays is what I need.

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