Warning: this heroic tale is not for the faint of heart.
Scene: COFA Staff Holiday Luncheon, 12:00pm on a rainy Tuesday
Enter: catered food. The spread is pretty great – caesar salad, broccolini with onions (broccolini is a cross between broccoli and kale – who knew? The more you know!), deliciously cooked chicken, scalloped potatoes, and rolls. I eat one (count it, ONE) slice of scalloped potatoes, chicken, salad, broccolini, and completely avoid the rolls. (Someday there will be a post about my love of bread. And by post, I mean lament.)
But at the table, in front of every single place setting is none other than caramel turtle cheesecake. That son of a bitch. It is just sitting there, staring me down.
And what’s that fruit doing there? Like this is healthy or some shit?? YOU CAN’T HIDE BEHIND YOUR LIES, CHEESECAKE.
Many of you may not know about my love of cheesecake. I just love it. It really can do no wrong in my eyes. I don’t give a shit how unhealthy it is, I will eat it right now, thank you very much. The taste is perfect, the texture is perfect – the whole thing is just a big ball of perfect. I even love bad cheesecake. Those little cheesecake bites from Target or Walmart or whatever? I’ll eat 12. I’ve gone to the Cheesecake Factory, just to eat their cheesecake (because let’s be honest – any place that has that many different dishes can’t do any of it really well, can they?)
So I sit down at the table, and I’ve decided I’m eating Cheesecake. Whatever. This is my treat. I need this. I NEED IT. All of the good vibes from writing the blog, going to WW meetings, losing 10 pounds – it’s gone. Out the window. It’s only me and Cheesecake, in our extremely unhealthy love nest full of sugar and lies. And I’m OK with it.
So I say something to my friend Dennis about me and Cheesecake and our torrid affair, and he just looks at me and says “Don’t eat that.”
Aw, hell no.
You do NOT get between me and Cheesecake. We are bonded. We are going to spend a long, unhappy life together, frolicking about, whispering sweet (hah) nothings into each other’s ears (and by frolicking I mean slowly lumbering). But Dennis won’t let it go. I try every sort of reasoning – this is my treat for the week, I don’t splurge any other time, I always eat Cheesecake, it’s the Holiday Luncheon, it’s Tuesday, it’s the 13th, it’s raining outside – but nothing works. I drop the subject, because Dennis is slowly making me want to shove his piece of cheesecake up his nose.
But then I sit there and mull it over. It’s just Cheesecake. It’s not oxygen, or music, or love, or friendship. It’s just food, that happens to taste delicious. Then I look up “cheesecake” on the WW mobile app, and in that moment I realize how I got to be over 200 pounds. That shit is MINIMUM 10 points, for what I was eating. And there are pieces that hit 20 points! Twenty effing points. That’s over HALF my daily points. At some point in my life, I knew all this, but I had so conveniently shoved these pieces of knowledge away into a very dusty corner. Bringing them out was painful, but important. And dusty.
So instead, I take photos of Cheesecake. I post them to Instagram and Twitter, and send them to Walter, showing him what I am NOT going to eat at lunch. These actions seem small, but they are so ridiculously empowering. As soon as I commit to leaving Cheesecake alone, it’s no longer hard to stare at it. I even box mine up for the office, get some on my fingers, wipe it off on the napkin, and carry it all the way back to the office fridge. I completely own Cheesecake.
Cheesecake is my bitch.
So in the battle of Liz vs. Cheesecake, Liz emerged victorious, with a serious assist from Dennis. It may seem small to you, and I know this is only one battle in the line of many temptations, but I felt great about it. And, on top of all of that drama, there was a white elephant gift exchange. This was the little gem I opened:
Everyone, meet Rose Lady. She’s just hanging out with my coffee cup, being EXTREMELY CREEPY. Do you see that face?? It’s a little terrifying. Apparently this gift has been passed around for a few years, and I feel so honored that Rose Lady will be gracing my cubicle this holiday season. She’s just so festive. Here’s Rose Lady with the slightly-effeminate-but-oh-so-fabulous Nutcracker:
Rose Lady knows what’s up. She will totally back me up in the next Cheesecake battle.