I have a serious thing for “concession stand” food. I’m not kidding. Hotdogs, popcorn, nachos, soft pretzels- you name it, I love it. I love the “cheese” the plastic trays, the salt. Clearly, that is not on the food plan for my diet bet. (Which is going terribly). I CAN NOT get my act together. I have yet to lose any weight since my initial weigh in, and I feel myself constantly being tempted.
I went to Target to pick up a few things on my lunch break and heard my stomach start to rumble. I threw a gift bag, air fresheners, and a tassel banner in my basket and headed to the grocery part of the store. I browsed the lean cuisine isle back and forth, back and forth. I would pick one up, hold it for a minute, pick another, hold that one, and then set them both down. I’d arch back and steal a glance at the smart one selection, no. I’d inch forward and squint to read the “Healthy Choices” options, yuck. I did not want any of this. With my lunch break coming to an end, I power walked to the front and checked out.
Just like clockwork a new batch of pretzels came out of the oven and I sprinted to the Target Café. I stood in line, read the calorie count, AND DID NOT CARE. I ordered that damn pretzel and a side of fake, hot cheese. I sat down, hunched over, and prayed that my co-worker Alexandra (Who keeps me insanely accountable and is always in my food business. Seriously, she listens for me to open my snack drawer and will come flying around the corner to smack out of my hand whatever I’m trying to eat.) wouldn’t come rounding the corner.
This really fit women came in the door and bee lined straight to the bathing suits. She had a tank that said “keep going” and I immediately lost it. I packed up the half of my pretzel that was left and threw it in the trash. I’m pretty sure that her tank and svelte body were not encouraging me to keep dunking my pretzel. As the disappointed tears streamed down my face I realized that my tears were similar to pretzel: unwanted, hot, and very salty.