Living with the enemy

When you live in a 15 x 15 room, food is literally always within arm's reach. I sleep 2 feet from the fridge. I watch TV 2 feet from the fridge. At least the toilet is on the opposite side of the room.

I got this place to spend some quality time with myself and to sort my head out after all these drastic, scary, incredible, freeing, exhilarating changes. I didn't think about the fact that I'd be squeezing, shrinking, limiting the space between myself and my next bite of food.

If I'm busy, it's not a problem. But if I'm watching TV, reading, on the computer, I am also thinking about food. What's in the fridge? What's in the cupboard? Should I rearrange it? Do I have enough? Should I go to the cool grocery store and see what else there is?

I feel like someone trying to escape a life of crime, get out of the bad, violent neighborhood--but who instead opts to move into a military war zone, bad, violent and--the worst part--sanctioned by someone.

So here I am. Me, myself and I. And food. Question is, who's the real enemy?

Settling in

Tonight's my first normal night in the apartment. Saturday it was crazy goinginand out getting things set up, etc. Yesterday I drove north for my dad's birthday. But tonight, it's just me and my four walls.

I'm beginning to see that this is the right decision for me now. I've had 2 days of really good eating behaviors...no obsessing, no snacking. In fact, I see now that I'm going to have to make sure that I DO eat.

Today was a bit more stressful with food, though. I'm realizing that sitting at a desk all day with incoming emails, ringing phone, burning projects, sets me up for feeling out of control. And for me, being out of control is a great reason to get in control by controlling my food and eating whatever I want, not just what I need.

OH no!

I just spent the last half hour laughing my ass off at the freakin' weirdos on a messageboard who have nothing better to do than whine and whimper about someone's rant on another website. Big ass babies. Big ass bacon-eatin', pizza-roll-poppin' babies. They sure as hell could be spending their time doing something more productive and worthwhile...like reading my relevant and always entertaining blog. Sheesh.