Maybe don’t assume strangers are crazy. Maybe.

This week has not been ideal.

There’s something about the week after the holidays in which “getting back to normal” is a bit of an asshole.  Trying to return oneself to a normal sleep schedule, a consistent work schedule, and a regular bowel schedule is tricky.  Not to mention all those pesky new year’s resolutions getting in the way. It’s tiring, frustrating, and a general pain in my recently fatter ass.

Click here to read more of this post at A Nervous Tic Motion. 


I write at this wicked-ass site once every few weeks and you should totally read, follow, and comment.  Try not to be lazy, people.  Nervous Tic covers a cornucopia of topics - nothing is off limits.  Which is why I like it. 

Plus, I write for them, which means everyone should trust my damn opinion because I totally wouldn't associate with losers.  At least not voluntarily. 

So go forth and enjoy...

Diets. Yea or nay?

How many people like to go on a diet?

Ummmm....

NO ONE.  NO ONE LIKES TO GO ON A DIET. 

Let's be clear.  I'm not a dieter. I watch my diet, but I don't slash it six ways to Sunday to achieve some sort of disillusioned goal.  Diets don't even work, do they?   Aren't we supposed to just improve our diet habits, not go crazy cutting out staples? 

All I've ever wanted was to be semi-healthy and therefore not feel like a total effing loser.  I watch what I eat, but there are no official  "rules" - because rules are ditch pigs.  I simply avoid shoving a shit-ton of crap into my face on a daily basis.  (Weekly, maybe, but not daily.)  I like my sweets and I eat them, but I like my veggies and I eat those too.  I'm ok with my choices.  I usually only feel like a loser when I haven't counteracted the crap with veggies or some type of - uh, what's that stuff called? Oh yeah.  EXERCISE.   

None of this was a problem when I was a gym-goer.  I was a big time yogi and kickboxer and I loved hiking too.  I watched what I ate, but it all balanced out.

Until Depression. 

When Depression first hit, I couldn't eat anything, and then I ate everything in sight, and now as much as I try to be active, motivating myself is problematic.  I'll get there.  I'm on the right track.  But in the meantime, I still eat all the same crap and I've lost all my counteractivity. 

So I'm trying something new.  I downloaded a calorie-counting app for my kickass iPhone.  Based on my weight and my beach-vacation exercise goals, it sets a daily calorie limit.  I track my food intake and energy exertion and then it shows how well I'm doing.  

Or in my case, HOW FUCKING BADLY I'M DOING. 

Thanks to this asshole app, I get to see that even a glass of milk (which I always loved) is a "problem."  MILK.  Which is GOOD for me.  Healthy milk.  Milk that prevents Osteoporosis.  Milk that Canadian dairy farmers make for me.  Milk that provides a cute mustache.  Milk, that I used to like, has become the enemy. 

So I need your advice, folks. 

Should I:

a) keep counting the calories for a few weeks to achieve my bathing suit health goals and to become more aware of what I'm eating (knowledge is power, and all that);

OR,

b) stop adding apps to my kickass iPhone that essentially just piss me off?

OR,

secret answer c) Liposuction?

What do y'all think?

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