Remember Susan Powter? The creepy motivational speaker, dietitian and personal trainer who rose to fame in the 90s with her catch phrase “Stop the Insanity!” Maybe you're wondering why the hell I would mention that annoying bitch when you have tried so hard to block her from your collective memories. No I have not decided to single-handedly resurrected Susan Powter from the annals of 90's pop culture. Lately I just haven't been able to get the catch-phrase "Stop the Insanity" out of my head in reference to my current diet and exercise routines (alright, who are we kidding. There is absolutely NO exercise happening here lately. The size of my ass can certainly testify to that).
All good things must come to an end - well that is if you think that ingesting mass quantities of potato chips smothered in that jarred Tostitos Nacho Cheese Dip substance is a good thing. I do. Or did that is, because just the thought of it makes me want to vomit now. Now that probably is a good thing. Man did I get off track in the month of December. I replaced a diet that consisted of mostly vegetables with one that currently consists of virtually NO vegetables (unless we're including potato chips as a vegetable. No? I didn't think so).
Here are some signs that I must Stop the Insanity right this instant:
1. Carl seemed shocked and maybe a wee bit horrifiedwhen I told him that I had eaten three jars of that Tostitos processed cheese dip substance over the course of one week. And this is the same person who eats scrapple. Wow. This may be the ultimate wake up call. Oh my God, I just read the jar and it says that 1 serving of this substance is 2 tbsp, and there are 13 servings per jar. A jar lasts me on average two days. So I'm eating around 6 or so servings of cheese substance a day. This is indeed alarming.
2. Just now Carl called me from the store to let me know that the large carton of Haagen-Dazs is unavailable. He seemed to think that this would be an issue for me because he kept repeating that the LARGE carton is unavailable and that they only have the 16 ounce carton in stock are you SURE that this will be okay?! I repeat THE LARGE CARTON IS UNAVAILABLE!!! I'm like, okay dude, I get it. It's fine. I mean, is this the last opportunity that I will have in my lifetime to purchase Haagen-Dazs? Does he actually think that I would want to eat more than 16 oz of vanilla ice cream in one sitting? (Okay you got me there. I actually have done that, but not since I was pregnant). Anyway, my point being that when he called me from the store he seemed kind of panicked and like I might bitch slap him if he didn't come home with the 32 ouncer.* Maybe this is a sign that I need to re-evaluate my relationship with Haagen-Dazs.
3. I noticed a perceptible jiggle to my arse when shopping at the supermarket in sweats yesterday for more cheese substance and potato chips. And Pepsi. One mustn't ever forget the Pepsi. (I was wearing a pair of really nasty Old Navy sweats with Uggs by the way, and I caught a glimpse of myself in the automated doors when entering the grocery store and this is so NOT a good look for me).
4. Carl's muscles feel stiff and sore from starting his new work-out routine. Mine feel stiff and sore from not moving from either the computer or our Lazy Boy recliner where I gorge myself with ice cream, potato chips and cheese substance while watching marathons of Snapped, and the television equivalent to jarred cheese substance, Jersey Shore.
5. My hair and skin feel all greasy because my body is no longer 65% water, it's now 65% jarred cheese substance.
Upon reading this, you will no doubt agree that the time has indeed come to Stop the Insanity. I'll keep you posted about my progress.
*Carl's fears may have been justified: Haagen-Dazs changed their 16 ounce container to 14 ounces? WTF?!
Update: A little while ago when it came up in conversation, Carl asked me if I was still watching Jersey Shore. When I reluctantly confessed that I did watch this week's episode, he said "Oh, honey!" in a way that suggested that he's disappointed in me as a human being. And I can't really say that I blame him.
I'm a 36 year-old wife and mother of two, living in fabulous Las Vegas, Nevada. I enjoy holding hands, cuddles, and long walks on the beach. I also enjoy sarcasm. You can email me at firstname.lastname@example.org.