So this is my life now. I eat at work instead of going home for lunch because my schedule changed to six hour days. (This is known as a cake schedule.) (Mmmm cake.) (I would like a piece of cake. I would like to be on a schedule of eating as much cake as I want.) (Do you know what isn’t cake? Yogurt. We’ll get to that in a second.)
Instead, my schedule is simply wonderful and I firmly believe that everyone should work six hour days. It is life changing. Those extra two hours are magical and allowing for all sorts of fat chronicle stories. But the point is that I eat in the office now which means I have to attempt to pack things I can eat in my office that don’t smell like microwaved feet. (This is what working on a “health services” floor gets you. People invent organic stews made out of fungus and kale and then microwave them 20 feet from my office while extolling the virtues of kale and I’m all like, ‘Bitch, please, kale is like celery’s ugly brother.’)
So I bring a sandwich – usually peanut butter because peanut butter is delicious and fattening and I don’t care. I also bring carrots because carrots are like brownies except in every imaginable way. And I bring yogurt.
I eat in shifts, little bits here and there to try to stretch throughout the day so that I don’t get hungry at 3 p.m. when I have private practice clients until 7:30 p.m. This is brilliant and after the first week has been easy peasy.
But the yogurt, man. First of all, yogurt makes me think of Activia which makes me think about the campaign they had that one time for people to take video testimonials about how Activia has helped them to poop more efficiently. I don’t want those videos, Activia.
I do not eat Activia nor do I eat the super special Greek yogurt because I feel that is for fancy schmancy people who are skinny and do triathlons and refuse to eat chicken strips. I am not that person.
I am not eating yogurt because I want more efficient poop. There are probiotics in yogurt, I am told. Or there are geobiotics that help the yogurt by serving as a Google maps of sorts for the body. ‘Take a left at the small intestine. Recalculating…” Or there are active cultures that help with the gross cultures in your stomach that they discovered cause ulcers. But here’s what I hate: I hate milk. I hate dairy of all kinds except cheese which is, of course, the shit you’re not supposed to eat too much of because we are supposed to care a lot about our arteries and not as much about our taste buds and I just think that we have our priorities wrong. (Much like forcing everyone to work eight hour days…)
Anyway, I hate dairy and I dislike most fruits. So why wouldn’t I eat a fruit filled dairy product as my noon snack? (It’s at noon because I don’t have to come to work until 10 a.m. which allows me plenty of time for hating every second of my morning treadmilling.) Plus, the yogurt container is JUST deep enough to get yogurt on the spoon handle which inevitably gets on my upper lip so then I feel like someone is smearing my face in fruit filled dairy.
Then the parts that get in my mouth don’t exactly bless me with a joyous feeling. And I cannot help but worry that the yogurt has expired. One of my most frequently experienced worries is that some form of dairy has gone bad and I’m going to put it in my mouth because of my desensitized sense of smell before I realize it. That is my own hell. (That is why I make Carrie smell the milk when it is remotely close to the date. I have never smelled the milk. Marriage has its benefits.)
In conclusion, my new campaign for all the companies is this:
Yogurt: It is an aesthetic nightmare from beginning to end.
Next time on the Fat Chronicles, we will discuss fat people pants and why they suck. Stay tuned.
