Nighttime attack on the refrigerator is a classic. Everyone on a diet must have attacked the refrigerator and if they didn’t, it’s because you don’t know what it’s like to be hungry. In the middle of the night you get up, get out of bed very slowly so your husband won’t wake up, step very lightly on the floor and walk without making a noise so the dogs won’t wake up and consequently your husband doesn’t know that you got out of bed. I open the fridge in the dark, that bright light at the end of a crowded shelf turns out to be very weak, but that’s when the hunt begins. What’s so good? Noodles to reheat? A piece of cheese? Salaminho? Pudding? Maybe you have a piece of milk pudding or a delicious apple tart?
And that’s when you wake up in a nightmare and remember that the day before you had the brilliant idea of having a blackout at the supermarket and just buying healthy stuff and that right now your fridge has no pudding but a lot of bush, fruits, vegetables, yogurt and the most delicious is a gelatin that you made at night before bed. Nothing attractive.
I go back to bed and hover from side to side with my stomach growling. I dream of how the world could be a better place, where Nigella was the standard of beauty and not the cachet of Gilian. I can finally sleep. I dream of food, ice cream, pie, patty, coxinha, codfish cake. Wow, Paulo’s mother makes a codfish cake that is out of this world, pure insanity on earth. Slept!
I woke up, sleepy, of course. Bad night’s sleep, what did you want? I go to the bathroom and face the scale. This scale is always wrong, each hour shows a different weight. I go up and it’s a number, I go up again it’s another. You can never make up your mind. The dilemma saw, I weigh myself or I hope to enter a gym to weigh myself on one of those good scales that you only have in the gym, but that only the hottest are in panties and bras to weigh yourself.
OK! CHE-GA! I will weigh! I weighed! Depression. It was more than I thought. Not much more, but it is more! 61.4 says the balance. I get out of it, I hope to hang up. I call again and weigh myself again. 61.4kg. It seems to be definitive. She has no other verdict. But who knows, I can’t slow it down a little. I’ll pee. I turn the scale on and weigh myself again. 61.4 she says and sends a fuck off to me. Okay, okay! Already understood. 61.4! I am officially weighing 13.4kg more than my normal weight. It will take me a year to lose this, for sure.
But ok, go ahead! I start the day as usual with a very large cup of unsweetened coffee and a banana, I can’t eat much in the morning. I keep thinking about those huge American coffees, with bacon, egg, bread. How do those people eat that without having a big hangover to be cured?
An hour later, I’m starving again, a box of cornflakes is open and outside. I had already started eating the day before (I think I forgot to count that part), I put my hand carelessly inside the box and steal a handful. I play into the mouth. Nothing much, just a small handful.
I start to work and as the chicken will take to be ready, I decide to start preparing. I’ll make a light chicken! Seasoning with powdered mustard, salt, white pepper, curry, rosemary and drizzle with beautiful orange juice. I take it to the fire in low temperature covered with foil. When it was almost ready, I made brown rice with quinoa and wasabi salt and a chayote sadala with beets seasoned with vinegar and honey. As you can see I was a great girl and I deserve to go to heaven!
I didn’t even have dessert, which is already a big step forward.
I’m determined and I’m back to work!
Snack time! Yesterday I had bought guava, I love guava! I ate one, but I remained hungry. That’s when I saw the jar of dulce de leche. Yes, that one! The bad guy. Wow, how good is this dulce de leche. I opened the pot. There was almost nothing else. I think Paulo ate hidden. So, why not do the same? I scraped until the last trace of dulce de leche in the jar, totaling half a spoonful of dessert. It’s not much, but I tasted it as if there was no tomorrow. I will never buy this dulce de leche again in my life! The devil’s thing, it doesn’t belong to the world of the saints. Or would it be the other way around? Too late. Finite!
I started pilates last week and I think I already told you that. Today I had class, and before leaving home, guess what? I was hungry, of course! I picked up one of those caramelized rice cakes that was hidden in the bottom of the pantry. So crunchy, so sweet. And it has almost no calories! At least compared to the rest of the things I eat. And since I’m going to walk to pilates and then do the class, why not? Right?
Too bad when I got to class to discover that my schedule had been an hour earlier and apparently I didn’t realize it had changed. But if you are Poliana’s niece, like me, you already know, without heartbreak, after all I had already walked there! ; D
For dinner I made one of those pizzinhas with skillet. I would love to be here at the moment declaring that I only ate one and telling you to be strong too and not to eat the second. (In) Fortunately, the pizza was very good and I had it, I was forced by the smell that gave off around the house, to eat DU-AS! No problem! Tomorrow it starts all over again and see if you can get up and rob your fridge tonight!
PS: Only if you still have pudding at the bottom!
Text posted on 05.11.2013 in I Could Kill For Dessert. The column I already put on weight for less joi transferred to this blog.