Where’s the movie about the person with the balanced life? I think to myself, over my morning spaghetti. The one who takes a jog before pouring their morning coffee. The one who gets to work on time and doesn’t hate everyone in the elevator.
I yearn to be that person. The kind that loves egg white omelets, sits through an entire dinner without finding alcohol somewhere, somehow, in the bathroom, from a stranger. It doesn’t matter, I will find it! Jesus. Drag me to your salvation, I submit. Free me of my desires, and I submit. My addictions, and I submit. My emotions, and I submit. My cravings, and I submit.
And this makes me think about donuts.
One time I was seeing a nutritionist. My mom made me, either she was concerned about supplying my ultimate health or she thought I was just a tad bit overweight.
There were donuts at school every day. In the ceramics room, back corner. Always a box of donuts. Sugary ones, frosted ones, even blueberry ones to make you feel like you were being healthy.. kind of. I ate the shit out of those donuts. Back and forth between classes, before and after lunch. I loved them and they loved me. We had a relationship. I told my nutritionist about this. This man tells me this is a problem, and he has the solution. “Dislike donuts”, he says.
Now I go, “What? Why in the world would I DISLIKE donuts?” I think, “I want a second opinion sir, get me out of this office sir, where is my money sir? DISLIKE donuts?”
It feels like the room is spinning around me and this is the only thing that keeps me from choking him.
A song by Beyonce comes on in the office and all is clear again.
“Hypnosis is a great way to overcome food problems”, he says, as he comes into smackable focus.
I did it. I let him hypnotize me. I came back three weeks later. It took me that long to admit that I did, in fact, have a problem. So, I thought I’d let him rub some jelly on my knuckles, help me out. Now, I eat spaghetti for breakfast every morning. Now I know it’s not your typical eggs, bacon, and ham, but hey, I never eat donuts. This makes me smile. Makes me feel like an Independent Women.
Hell yeah, I say. As I leave, late, once again for work.