THE ITCHY AND SCRATCHY SHOW
Cindy Maddera
I share an office space with five guys. It started with Jay. He was the first to fall victim to the sinus infection. In fact he carried his around for almost a month. Next was Zulin. He fared better than all of us, only struggling a couple of days with the sniffles. The next to fall was Jeff, except his got diagnosed as bronchitis. Sean fell victim soon after Jeff. I thought I was doing well, like I'd make it despite all the hacking, snorting, and coughing going on all around me. I am delusional, but after six days of antibiotics I feel like I am on the mend with the exception of wanting to claw my skin off. The antibiotic makes my skin itchy. Unfortunately I have passed my illness on to Michael. His birthday is tomorrow and we decided not to do gifts for each other's birthdays. I cheated and gave him some new house slippers, a book and a cold. I'm the best girlfriend ever. But I feel fine. Maybe fine isn't quite the word. I feel motivated. You see, they had to weigh me at the doctor's office last week and I cringed at the eight pounds that I've added to my body. I already had an inkling that I've put on a few pounds since Michael moved in. He's not a good food influence. Also, for the last month, there have been some sort of basket of candy, cookies and bagels sitting on the windowsill right behind my desk. I'm a sucker for anything bread. I've noticed this pattern emerging where I start off the week with good intentions. I eat good clean food, no snacking between meals and a smaller portion at dinner. By the middle of the week, I'm still doing OK except for the four pumpkin cookies I consumed, but I made sure to space them out through the day. A cookie here. A cookie there. It just gets worse. By Friday, my brain stops functioning and looses the ability to process the little things, like what to eat for dinner. This means I am easily talked into things like Chinese buffets and fried cheese. I'm not going to lie. Saturday night, a tipsy Michael said he was hungry as we neared the end of his birthday barhop. When I asked him what he wanted, he looked sheepishly at me and said "Taco Bell". We were barhopping in my neighborhood, close to the house, but I had no idea where Taco Bell was. Turns out, it's right down the street. Michael was amazed that I let him eat Taco Bell and more than shocked that I ate a bean burrito. I have regrets. And Michael is still talking about how I let him eat Taco Bell.
When I went a little crazy after seeing Food Inc., Chris would remind me that we eat 80% clean so we can give ourselves that 20% of leeway. That way of thinking curbed my neurotic panic attacks when forced to make a food decision in a convenient store. It has also helped me to stop beating myself up every time I put something in my mouth (I'm talking about food, you filthy minded). My 80/20 these days is starting to look more like 60/40. Holiday season is upon us which that 60/40 could easily go 40/60. Over the weekend I thought a lot about making a holiday resolution. I know we usually save up the resolutioning for the New Year. But what if I made some preventative resolutions? I'm even considering making the usual resolutions that people make every year: eat less, exercise more, yada yada yada. Make better choices. Worry less (I've been a bit of a worry wort the last couple of months. I'm imbalanced). All I know is that it sure would be a lot easier dropping those eight pounds now than eight plus who knows what after the holidays. So...once again I'm beginning the work week with good intentions, but this time I plan to see them through.