I Cried Over a Burger
It’s true. I literally cried over a burger. Yes, it was awkward and weird.
Let’s start with the truth. I haven’t been great on my diet as of late. But, I haven’t been terrible either. I haven’t binged or really gone crazy. Instead I had little cheats here and there: a handful of Girl Scout Cookies instead of just one. I found a bag of candy from Christmas and devoured way more than I should. Ordering the sugar filled coffee treats instead of tea. And a big, yummy, Valentine’s Dinner this past Saturday.
When Andrew and I planned our actual Valentine’s Day, we planned a day of leisure, catching up on television, complete with our favorite breakfast: Eggs Benedict. My guilt from all the bad eating had caught up with me, so though I allowed the Eggs Benedict, I insisted that the remainder of the day be salads and roasted veggies.
The thing about lazy days, couch potato do nothing days, is that once you are in the lazy zone, it’s hard to get out. So by the time dinner approached we had no desire to make anything. So we turned to our good old friend, Grub Hub.
Grub hub is brilliant by the way! I wish I had thought of the idea. It seems that it is becoming more and more popular. Grub Hub was once full of all the restaurants that had delivery anyway, Chinese and pizza. Now it has expanded to include local restaurants that you never would have considered delivery before. That is how we ended up at Big Smoke Burger.
Burgers and fries are my diet kryptonite. And these weren’t just fries, they were highly rated poutine. Red meat, fries, gravy, cheese! Husband and Roommate agreed that this sounded delicious. I ordered their signature burger and a poutine. Husband and Roommate did the same. As we confirmed the order Andrew noticed I snapped out of it, went off into my own world. He asked if I was ok. Strangely, Andrew asking me if I am ok is a huge trigger. The man can see what is wrong with me before I can. I burst into tears. I couldn’t eat the burger, I didn’t want it. It sounded awful and terrible and guilt-filled.
I was torn between two selves. The girl I used to be, who wants nothing more than to hide her life in food. And the girl I am now who has finally realized that won’t help. They fought: It’s been so much good food lately, some bad food won’t hurt! It’s Valentine’s Day! It’s been a hard day, month, week, year, whatever. The negotiated: What if you ate half, and you ate half tomorrow? Are you kidding?! Gravy fries will never reheat, besides you are still eating crap.
Finally I made a decision. I had a salad in the fridge and that is what I would eat. I was resolute. And my crying stopped.
As we waited on the food, I thought it was totally possible that I would regret it. Heck, I think there is still a part of me that is waiting to regret it. I haven’t yet. I ate my salad, and even tried Andrew’s burger and fries. They were fine. But they didn’t taste good enough to cry over.
For me, this feels like I have turned a corner, or jumped into a new set of challenges. Like when Mario reaches the castle at the end of World 1. I battled my Bowser, but the Princess is in another castle. I am on to World 2.