One week ago, I decided to stop eating sugar as much as possible. Anything resembling dessert, dried fruit, soda, juices, a spoonful with medicine, all of it. There was no big catalyst for this decision, and it is surprisingly hard to explain to people without sounding like a diet idiot. I loathe diet idiots. One cannot place all the blame for ill-being and weight gain on one specific thing. Everything is ok in moderation, right? Well, when you loose sight of moderation, it’s time to take a step back to reevaluate things. I want to revere dessert again, not mindlessly gobble it after every meal.
In conclusion, I place all the blame on my father, whose insatiable sweet tooth I inherited. WRONG. One must place blame in moderation. I place most of the blame on my father. His parents only knew of two food groups: meat and potatoes. Let’s do some call and response, shall we? What do potatoes make? Lefse! What do you put on lefse? Butter! What sticks to the butter? Sugar! How much sugar! Piles of sugar! How many lefses fit in your tummy? A hundred! How can you fit more lefses in there? Puke! What do you crave after you puke? Lefse! See what a vicious cycle it is? I guess I can transfer the blame to my NRA card-carrying, Nazi Norwegian grandparents for not knowing what fruit is.
Fruit is the magical place to get sugar. It is the evolutionary reason we crave sweet. Jesus Darwin made it so, so we would desire the wonderful nutrients therein. Well, refined sugar messed the whole thing up. And aw geez- dried fruits and juices have a much higher concentration of sugars, albeit natural ones, than straight up fruit (which you really shouldn’t overdo anyway! It all gets so complicated!).
Oh, I should also add that I work in a bakery, satan’s temple. After making the decision that I was taking an official sugar hiatus, it’s actually much easier to resist. There is no constant “where do I draw the line?” running through my head as I pound sugary treats throughout the day. The line stops at my mouth. I even survived a birthday party and reunion-packed weekend with friends, where I did not eat “The best chocolate cake” Ellen’s ever had, strawberry rhubarb bars, rhubarb crumble, and post-5k salted nut rolls (oh, yeah! we did a 5k!). Abstinence is fun!
Though it really has been easier to resist, tonight is a different story. The sole reason I am writing this post is to kill time and get too tired to run to the store to get ICECREAM.IWANTICECREAMSOSOBADSOBADRIGHTNOW. Not even ice cream! I want my favsies kind of frozen yogurt: Stonyfield Farm Creme Caramel! Lowfat! 130 calories per serving (but I would eat the whole pint, so 520- I’ve done the math before- but still! Probably better than anything from DQ… now I’m showing the fallacies of my rationalizations).
We’ll give some blame to biology as well, as “lady time” has struck our household and transformed us into crazy batches, much like any romatic comedy you’ve seen, or bad joke you’ve heard about PMS. Let’s blame dinner too, which was salty delicious Vietnamese food.
Life lesson: placing blame doesn’t do a damn thing. Just shut up, and quit bitching. It’s probably your own fault anyway, so just realize and accept that, and things are pretty awesome. WOA! I think that cured me!
P.S. My thoughts would probably be more cohesive if I had some sugar in me. We’ll get through this together.