I have a bad habit of slipping into bad habits (see what I did there?). Recently, I discovered another bad habit I picked up. Oddly enough, it was a bad habit that came out of a good habit. My problem, as usual, is that I am seldom able to find a good balance. If I'm to succeed in something, I usually have to be super disciplined. Sometimes, this discipline spills over into my social life and starts annoying people.
Last year, I started counting calories because I decided I was sick of being fat. Sure, I fell off the wagon for a while...and gained back a lot of weight over Thanksgiving and Christmas, but I picked it back up again for the obligatory New Year's Resolutions. It works for me, but as I said, I have to be super disciplined. None of this "moderation" stuff works for me. I mean, I can limit myself to a couple of pieces of chocolate a day--I guess that's moderate. But if I were to go to a buffet--especially one with a dessert bar, we'd have a problem. I don't know when to say no, so I have to tell myself no beforehand.
And that means I have to know the calories in everything I eat before I eat it.
So last week one of my preschool kids had a birthday party, and the mom brought donuts...and not just any donuts. Krispy Kremes, the ONE DONUT TO RULE THEM ALL. I was going to politely refuse, but the mom put the beautiful donut on a plate and handed it to me. I had to accept. I took one bite, just one bite, of the glazed Precious. Oh, but once I had tasted the Donut of Power, I could not stop. Was I consuming it, or was it consuming me?
I skipped my lunch and one of my snacks that day to compensate, and the SECOND I got home, I turned on the computer and Googled "glazed Krispy Kreme donut calories." I had to know how much damage I had done.
Turns out, the Donut of Power was only 30 calories over the protein bar I was going to eat for lunch. It fit fairly easily into my diet. It fit so easily that I went back and had ANOTHER donut on Sunday. I'll probably go back and have another one sometime this week. Sure, there's very little protein or anything else healthy about a donut, even if the calories are relatively low, but Ruthums wants her Precioussss.
Don't start calling me Ruthums.
So anyway, when I looked up the calorie info for the donut, my roommate was sitting nearby. I started telling her about how many calories were in different kinds of donuts. Apparently, this stuff fascinates me now. I'd probably rattled off the calorie info for about seven different kinds of donuts before she finally said, "Ruth. Stop. Nobody cares."
She is right. Nobody cares. Except for me. It's because I've turned into a calorie nazi, and I didn't even realize it. Without any warning whatsoever, I can change from socially awkward superhero into a calorie counting nazi jerkface that annoys you by making you actually think about what you're eating.
I've even developed an unhealthy relationship with healthy spaghetti squash. Why? Because 9 ounces only has about 100 calories, and there's so much you can do with it. Seriously, I'm eating it like five nights a week now. Sunday, I put some 60 calorie spaghetti sauce on it. Yesterday, I also put spaghetti sauce on it (I love spaghetti). Tonight, I really shook things up and put peanut sauce on it--I even mixed in some chopped up spaghetti squash seeds to make it seem like there were peanuts in my squash noodles.
9 ounces of real pasta has a lot more than 100 calories in it, but you probably don't care.
My birthday is coming up, and I'm not even going to be able to get over my calorie nazi-ness for that. The family I sit/nanny for wants to take me out for a birthday dinner--already my brain is screaming, "OH NO! Where can I go? What can I eat? Calories are everywhere!" I want to try one of those Chick-fil-a banana pudding milkshakes on my birthday, but I know how many calories are in it and I'm going to have to share it with someone. I'm not even talking halves. I'm only drinking 1/3 of that bad boy. I want to go do something with my friends for my birthday, but I am terrified of anything that has to do with calories I'm not in control of.
...is this sad and pathetic? Probably.
...but at least my jeans fit...
...actually, they're a little loose.
I call it the donut diet (don't I wish...).
(Just so you know, I didn't include the number of calories in the Donut of Power because I figure that most people just don't want to know. If you know, then you can go Google it yourself. I mean, what do I look like? Your personal Google Slave? Sheesh.)
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