I just figured out why I can't lose any weight. The pleasure center of my brain has been compromised and I blame my mouth. Because I just ate a plastic container full of leftover curry and for the last six bites, I was full, didn't want any more, but I kept eating. That has mouth written all over it.
My mouth and its minions, the taste buds, are running the show over here. They've conquered my nucleus accumbens in a coup, and are giving orders left and right. My stomach could be in full revolt, at death's door, and the Mouth Cartel just soldiers on, forcing all the other body parts to do its bidding.
It's really bossy, and has decided that Eating Delicious Food is a priority over everything else that I love. It has total domination over Reading a Phillip Roth Book, Getting My Hair Washed by Someone Else, and Watching Law and Order Original Series Reruns From the Ed Green Lenny Briscoe Era. Whenever there's a choice between any of those things and eating all the Ghiradelli chocolates that I have stashed in the dining room buffet, I do the candy, every time. And Buying New Clothes? My mouth has made Buying New Clothes her bitch. I can barely look at myself in a dressing room mirror. But I who has time, when I'm so busy dipping half a loaf of bread in the good olive oil.
One day last week I got out of the dentist early, so I decided to treat myself by going to Macy's and looking at dresses. I don't need a new dress, but I tried one on anyway, just because I had an extra 15 minutes and Trying on Dresses I Can't Afford used to be a fun hobby of mine. Also because I wasn't feeling quite shitty enough about the weight plateau that I'm stuck in. I grabbed a black angular dress that was on the severe side and don't-mess-with-her businessy. I looked in the mirror and saw a TV show character if there was a chubby friend on S tar Trek: Next Generation.
The final straw was when two of my Facebook friends posted a story about a woman who has faced a terrible life event and her grandma tells her a story using food props. Do you handle adversity like a carrot? Like a hard boiled egg or like coffee? I should have done what other people did and used that story to reflect on my own character and ability to bounce back from adversity. But no. I told my friend Diane K, "I think I'm a carrot-egg-coffee casserole. With melted butter on top. And garlic croutons." Then I got up and ate all the leftover pasta in the frig and half a bag of seasoned croutons. And - that's right - some Ghiradelli chocolates.
Even Improving My Life Via Facebook is no match for this thing.
