And on that Bombshell

Yesterday I was telling a friend that I'm going through a phase where I'm trying not to allow myself to feel bad about what I eat.  I'm eating what I want, when I want and not holding onto any guilt over it.  Life's too short to feel guilty about what you eat. Amiright?

Example: this was the meal I had at
the Beacon on Sunday. Pimento
cheeseburger with onion rings and
fries. At least I only ate half!

This is both good and bad. Good, because what good is guilt, really?  No good.  No good at all.  (I've already used the highly descriptive word - good - six times in this paragraph. Clearly, I'm an amateur writer.)

It's also bad, because I'm eating what I want, when I want, which is generally not very healthy stuff.  My sister's visiting me this week and we've been eating out a lot. This is not her fault, but mine. I didn't make my meals this weekend, even though I had clearly a whole extra day to do it with the holiday on Monday.  Not making meals always spells disaster for me when it comes to healthy eating.


Despite the fact that I'm trying not to feel bad about eating poorly, I am feeling bad because of eating poorly.  I feel heavy. I feel gross. I feel weighed down.  This feeling is a direct result of eating poorly.  Yet I never seem to remember it until I get to this point where I've had several bad days of eating and feel gross.  Where's the disconnect? When will I get it?

So I've conquered the feeling bad about eating poorly, just not the feeling bad because of eating poorly.

And on that bombshell, I leave you.

PS The phrase "And on that bombshell" closes out each episode of Top Gear, my current favorite show. It airs on BBC America and features three British guys talking about cars and making fun of each other. I watch it strictly for the jokes, not the cars.
PPS I'm getting a haircut tonight! I'm sooo excited. I'm about two months past due!