I had planned on a really cute recipe post for today. I’ve been saving my vegetable puns, editing pictures, and cooking really delicious food that I was excited to share. But all of that will have to wait, because I’ve had the most HORRIBLE day.
Once a month, on a random day I feel insanely starving. It wakes me up from my sleep, rumbles in the shower, and follows me around ALL day. I can’t find a trend that would explain my body to act this way. I call this day of the month, “savage day”. It’s because I act like a total nut job and do uncharacteristic things ALL DAY LONG.
So today, unfortunately, was savage day.
I woke up like clock work to the worst kind of hollow, starving feeling. I drank some water hoping to calm the angry rumbling in my stomach. When I got to work I ate 2 of my crustless quiches and a piece of dry rye bread. The rumbling continued. So I ate a yogurt. Nothing changed. I drank FIVE mugs of green tea hoping to settle the mess that was my stomach. Nothing. Time? 9:13 AM.
I pick my brain for something to try and quiet the beast, ah ha, Carrots. I proceed to eat an ENTIRE pound of baby carrots. Not in a cute, calm, cool, collected way, but in a “hunched over my desk, two hands at a time, mouth chomping” kind of way. Surely this POUND of carrots will make my stomach stop growling. Minutes later, quiet. Praise Jesus!
11:00 comes quickly and I am relieved that I have made it this far in the day without any kind of cheating (afterall, it is savage day). My morning started of rough with a few disagreements and frustrations and I was determined to turn it around. So I opted for a quick workout at a local gym to get in some extra steps. I drive to this cheap gym, spirits high, stomach rumbling, only to be told that there is a $99 enrollment fee on top of the advertised $15 “sign now event”. Damn you, sneaky marketing.
I leave feeling discouraged, but decide that I will still get those steps. I change quickly in the bathroom at work and make my starving self parade around the building. I pass the building, the crepe restaurant and the southern cooking place. I pass Noodles and company, Jersey Mikes and some Hawaiian restaurant. The wind starts whipping my hair, wildly blowing the earrings I forgot to take out, and wafting the scent of the stupid cajun restaurant who opened their patio. And like clockwork, the tears start streaming. “Why am I walking in this windstorm? Who power walks on a lunch break? I miss going to Chuys.” So like any mature 23 year old would do, I put on my Hilary Duff spotify and pout all the way back to the office.
I immediately make myself a heaping pile of deli turkey, 1/2 container of strawberries, 20 ir so blackberries, and HALF of a cucumber. My stomach gobbles it up and sounds like a garbage disposal. “What is wrong with you?” I whisper at myself. The feeling becomes so overwhelming, that I am forced to tap into my “emergency” savage stash. I keep many items in this secret stash, but the most important item is the heat pads. I think they’re made for cramps, but the soothing heat will quiet that little shit and let me get some peace and quiet.
The instructions for this thing always make me laugh. It suggests that you put this pad on the inside of your underwear so that it’s right “all up in your business”. I did not wear the right underwear for savage day apparently. The lacy, dainty panties get pulled up as high as possible, and I slap that little heater on. My panties were literally in a wad. WHATEVER, it’s savage day.
I sit back down, drink more green tea and decide that I will not be going to Orange Theory because I can not handle anything else on my plate (literally and figuratively). But then I remember since I am a platinum member, I will be charged $10 for canceling that class. So I eat a protein bar and pout. Work comes quickly to an end and I find myself running a little bit behind. Apparently, the wind from my lunch time stroll is also having a savage day, the sky is black and the storm is brewing, COOL.
I make it to Orange Theory just in time to park in a tow away zone and run inside. I change quickly and throw some pre-workout in my shaker and head into the already packed class. They’ve all already started the workout, and I’m awkwardly searching for a treadmill trying to be low key. I go to shake my shaker and the lid is not screwed on. My pre workout flies into the air, much like an explosion of a whale’s blow hole. No one is amused. I hurry and wipe up the grape goodness and try to keep it together for the first half of the workout. I begin to sweat and feel this explosive heat on my stomach.
I DID NOT TAKE OFF THE HEATER AND IT IS REACTIVATING. OH MY GOSH.
It began to feel like my stomach was Ryan’s Inferno. “Take it off stupid girl.” You’re probably thinking to yourself. I thought of that too. But I looked to my right and then to my left and noticed that I did not feel comfortable taking a HEATER out of my pants on a treadmill. So I begin to sweat so much that the handles are slippery and I’m praying that this workout ends before I just fall off. The next section involves heavy lifting. I try and be discrete with my stomach most days anyway (read: I never wear crop tops) and start to lift the weights. As I’m lifting, I see girls eyeing me.
THE HEATER HAS RISEN AND IS NOW ON MY LOWER STOMACH, EXPOSED.
You guys, it looked like I was keeping a pad for safe keeping. I wanted to hide in a ball. Class came to an end, I bolted out the door and cried in my car.
Reviewing the events of the day made me realize that I am stronger than my excuses. I didn’t cave today. There was no “emergency” diet coke sips, a “just this once” wine purchase, or even a “I’ll skip this one” class. I made it through savage day and am able to tell the tale.
Does anyone else still like Hilary Duff, I mean… have a savage day?