I have been quite outspoken approximately what I consider our current commander-in-chief, ought to the chagrin of my redder-than-red buddies, co-employees, and my brother-in-law, who showers together with his MAGA hat on. But it’s politics, and just like the weather in Ohio, the whole thing can alternate in the quantity of time it takes to microwave a bowl of tomato soup. Which isn’t long, and I always overdo it, and the primary sip scalds the top of my mouth, and I vow by no means to microwave tomato soup once more.
Well, that received’t manifest to Trump because he possibly personnel an underneath-secretary of the kingdom to take the primary sip of his soup. This brings to at least one factor that’s excellent approximately being commander-in-leader–you may eat whatever you need, on every occasion you need; and that forces me, begrudgingly, to say something that I like approximately Trump had McDonald’s within the oval workplace.
But I digress. Unlike our President, I can’t consume something I want. I consume anything my spouse puts in front of me for dinner; then, I see it again tomorrow in my lunch container. My weight loss program consists entirely of food that I can manage to pay for, not especially tasty meals. Which led me, one night after a dinner of meatloaf, inexperienced beans, and fingerling potatoes, which my wife only serves when her mom isn’t around due to the fact her mother thinks fingerling potatoes are a waste of cash–it led me to invite myself: what do I eat each week?
So I started a list. I wrote down the whole lot I ate in one week. Every breakfast, lunch, and dinner item. Every jelly donut, each bean and cheese burrito, each Frito, chocolate chip waffle, lo-cal frozen meal, and breaded beef chop. Everything. At the cease of the week, I looked at the listing and attempted to make sense of it. It seems that I like chicken. I consume it several instances a week. I had fried hen, b-b-qued, and even some hen nuggets. I even had hen-fried rice. What else did I even have? A hamburger–with cheese, a salad,
Kernel corn and pasta. Some pizza. And a meatball sandwich–which rings a bell in my memory of this man who places French’s yellow mustard on his meatball submarine sandwiches. I wince when he does it, but I can’t shy away… So I did it for any other week, and bet what? It changed into about the equal. I devour the same stuff each week.
That’s okay, but hell, it’s BORING. I needed to get out of my self-imposed meals prison–I had to diversify… So I did. I went to the grocery shop with my spouse, went down the aisles I constantly disregarded, spent an inordinate amount of time in the product segment, brought myself to kale, spurned the colas for juice, and even read some of the labels. Amazing.
TASK:
Food that is–no longer your fingernails or your female friend’s tongue. Food. Make a listing of the whole thing that goes in your mouth for the duration of the week. At the quiet of the week, publish the listing on the front of your refrigerator. Then, for the subsequent week.
DON’T EAT ANYTHING ON THAT LIST.
Try a few Indian meals or macrobiotics or veggie burgers or carrot cake or eel sushi (which I tried, and now I’m hooked, pardon the pun). It gained’t kill you. Trust me. If you accept as true within the paintings we’re doing right here at The Good Men Project, please join us as a Premium Member these days.
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