The Kim that Ate Tokyo

It seems my hunger has returned. Waaaahhhh!!!! I was hoping I'd be one of those "I'm never hungry again" people who dump on sugar and fat and milk and cheese and everything but protein powder and fibersure. However, I guess I am one of the lucky ones.

Lucky-- but how? Well, I can have two bites of cake. I can eat one cookie (or seven, depending on how long it takes). I can have a ground hamburger, no bun, and not feel like I am going to die. I can eat a piece of pizza and not feel like I am being deprived at all. Here's where the tools of this being WLS comes in.... I get to choose.

Wait, choose? No no no-- no choosing. We want our food to be spooned to us by a nurse for the rest of our lives, with punishment handed out and with shock treatments when we drink water too close to having eaten. We want big brother over our shoulder. Choosing is equivalent to death. Choosing is what got us here in the first place. I chose Wendy's and Del Taco (mmm, del taco) and cakes and cookies and pies and bread and jam and all the things I love. I chose to have dinner parties for three, invite no one and consume the entire meal by myself. Usually in one sitting. In front of the TV. Wanting more.

Oh oh oh, here's a sneaky trick I used to do. When I obviously ordered enough food for Ethiopia-- (do they like Italian?) I would say to the non English speaking delivery man-- hang on, my boyfriend has to get the money. Then I would close the door, and pull money out of my wallet and say "Honey, dinner's here!" and then pay the guy. I wonder if the delivery guy saw that before as he was making his tour of lonely fat girl specials (extra cheese, more garlic, one coke), or wondered why that lazy boyfriend never helped with the meal collection (an entire pizza, pasta and a salad balanced precariously on my hip as I paid). Obviously, there was never a boyfriend, because really who would date this scrunchy bunned, flannel jammied, ice cream dripping mess that was me.

There's the good bit. It was me. Was. So I ate Tokyo. Like D said, it needed to go. But I came back a pound and half lighter. I didn't totally over indulge. I make choices that I make. I now know, when I am tired, it is not time to eat. When I am hungry, I need to drink water, because it's not hunger, it's thirst. I have to get all that water in every day. And since my hair is leaving a trail all over mid-town, eat 70 grams of protein a day.

And choose to do it. Choose. Then maybe, just maybe, I'll really see collarbones and a size 20 pant by Christmas.

Oh, and it's time to go to the gym and work off Tokyo. And sleep for jimminy crickets. I have TERRIBLE jet lag!