A Vegetarian Zombie Confessional
I’d give an arm and a leg for a good summer vegetable medley
Not eating meat doesn’t define me. I’m just not a fan of brains or human flesh. We all have our vices. I binge watch Desperate Housewives. I don’t judge others dietary choices, but I can’t say others are as considerate.
It’s hard being different, but at least I can sleep at night. If I needed to sleep anymore. I mean, at least I can live with myself, even though I’m not technically alive.
My friends never invite me out to eat anymore. That’s okay. They mostly just eat fast food anyway. When we do go out on the weekends it’s really hard because my friends are slo-chasing dinner and I’m sitting there munching on a Kale Salad from a Tupperware container.
My parents have been slow to adjust. Thanksgiving last year was a disaster. I brought Tofurkey and spent time in the kitchen while everyone else gorged themselves on the neighbors before my food was even ready!
My parents aren’t speaking to me anymore. All I can get out of them is, “Oooo, Grrr, Oooo.” The phone calls are awkward. And my mom keeps texting me her Instagram pics. She has 10,000 followers (they are all about a mile behind her, but it’s a marathon not a sprint as we like to say in the Zombie World). It’s food-themed and called, “A Slow Moving Feast.”
I did try other diets before realizing the Vegan lifestyle was for me.
I tried the South Beach Diet where I only ate people from Miami.
I tried Jenny Craig; No really, I ate Jenny Craig.
I joined Weight Watchers. I waited, watched, and then ate them.
But I ended up a Vegan. Can you imagine?
I feel healthier as a Vegan. I think my zombie walk is a little faster even. I have found that eating vegetables greatly reduces the need for a napkin — no more “wearing” my dinner for me. I do eat cauliflower. Don’t love the taste, but it looks like brains. What can I say? I haven’t given up peer pressure.
I haven’t been ostracized exactly, but when other zombies are looking at you like you’re a freak — things are bad. That’s okay. In high school, I was voted “Most Likely to Reject Bone Marrow for Couscous.”
I may not be winning hearts and minds, because those are already gone anyway, but taste buds will eventually come my way — hopefully not just to eat me.
