You know those days when all you want to do is eat french fries and not care that the under part of your arm jiggles just a little bit when you reach for another?
I’m having one of those weeks.
Except that I legitimately don’t care that I’ve lost muscle mass in my arms since I permanently quit working out at the gym. I had a personal trainer for 3 months last year (bucket list!) and it was great because now I know that I don’t need that shit in my life. I really thought I’d be the kind of person to get excited about body measurements and performance optimization, but in the end, all I cared about was maintaining health and continually fitting into my (stretchy) clothes. Not hard.
As long as I don’t eat too many french fries.
The week of my period is usually the time in my life when I allow myself to indulge these feelings and vocalize my cravings. In this case, that means not eating all the french fries, but instead using hummus as a salad dressing. It makes the salad more meaty, you know? I could walk across the street to hoard Burger King french fries (hoarding is the only thing I know how to do with french fries), but I’ve never had BK fries and I know for a fact that McDonald’s french fries have to be better.
McDonald’s french fries are not a guilty pleasure. I feel no guilt, only joy. I don’t pretend I’m better than McD’s when the freedom fry craving strikes. Life is meant to be lived, so I don’t discipline myself and resist every urge. I think about them until I taste the partially hydrogenated oils. Then reality sets in and I realize there’s no way I’m putting on pants and driving through California traffic to buy a bag of deep-fried potatoes, no matter how perfectly salted they are. And the BK across the street from my hotel this week? I’m not emotionally prepared for the level of disappointment BK would deliver. So I stick with my hummus salads.
I’ve gone through 3 pounds of hummus in less than a week, which says more about my french fry craving than it does about my hummus consumption. It seems to go with everything this week, including an empty fork and open mouth. If I think about McD’s hard enough, I can almost convince myself I’m eating my favorite vegan junk food.
I did not purposely sit down to write about french fries, but it appears that’s what I’ve done. And I’m ok with that.