06/14/2012

I was planning to have a nice barbeque on Saturday for father’s day.  We went to the store today and picked up steak, corn on the cob, and the fixings for strawberry shortcake.  I was going to make my own strawberry sauce out of the nice, fresh, homegrown strawberries in my fridge. 

Unfortunately, my father has decided he doesn’t want to attend my father’s day barbeque.

It’s an awful lot of food for just three people, but I guess on Saturday we’re just having a Saturday barbeque.

He’s most likely sulking about the whole getting-arrested-and-going to jail thing.  My thinking is, if you don’t want to be arrested and go to jail:

A.   Don’t drive drunk.

B.   Don’t possess marijuana.

C.   Don’t possess Vicodin without a prescription.

I’ve avoided doing all of those things, and so I am not going to jail next month.  Simple, yes?

My parents might end up coming over on Saturday after all, but honestly, if my dad’s in full sulk mode, I’m not sure I want to inconvenience him with gifts and love, etc.

Believe it or not, I do love my father, even though I think he’s a fucking moron. 

I’ve kicked by daily workout up from 30 minutes to 40-60 minutes.  Not that it matters.  I did an hour last night, and woke up this morning with a fasting blood sugar of 355.  This is non-ideal.  It’s not as if I spent all last night feasting on carbohydrates and spoonfuls of sugar, either. 

I am actually starting to like working out.  There’s a point about “5 miles” into my ride where I kind of leave my body behind.  It’s disappointing coming back to it.

The problem with testing my blood sugar is that it leaves me feeling fat, pathetic, guilty, and disgusting all day.  I should just stop eating. 

I wish food wasn’t poison.  People can’t agree if we should eat all meat, or all vegetables, or both, or neither.  Each camp demonizes the other.  “Carbohydrates are evil!’  “Meat is evil!”  “Fiber is evil!”  “Dairy is evil!” 

I never really understood the phrase, “guilt-free” in reference to food.  I never felt guilty for what I was eating.  Now I feel guilty for everything I eat.  Nothing is healthy, nothing is hearty, nothing is safe.  If I have a salad, I have to think about all the articles I read about how too much fiber is bad for you.  If I have a sandwich, I think about the evil lurking in the bread, the fat in the meat.  If I have a cookie, I might as well get out the whips for some self-flagellation.

I’m too weak and pathetic to starve myself, though, so I just hate myself instead.

Food is kind of terrifying.