Away with Fat

I'm unable to get into the rythm of my daily routine. My diet regiment is so far fetched, like an unseductive siren. My brain sends out signals that I'm not on vacation, but my stomach is unable to comprehend my S.O.S. Have I gone soft? Literally. Life is too short to be strict. I just need a little push in the direction of discipline.

As soon as Friday night rolls around, under the bus my diet goes. The weekends are my comfort away from my work week. A reason to drink and be merry should never be an excuse. Well, it should, if it didn't effect your fat count. Last Friday, I gorged on a gob of St. Andre cheese and chased it down with two pieces of fried chicken. To make matters worse, I woke up the next morning and stuffed my face with a cold piece of fried chicken. Later, I snacked on a crunch wrap supreme from Taco Bell at 10:00pm. If I keep this madness up, I will be schlepping a belly soon.


Such hostile times for my stomach and arteries. My body is like what the hell! It has become a battlefield, bombarded by saturated fat, sodium, high calories, bad carbohydrates, preservatives. A grease trap. The only weapon to fight this obese battle is liposuction. Kidding. Healthy food and exercise. Did I hear a crack of a whip?

Shellie's Proverb: Waistline does not lie.


Normally, our meals are set for the entire work week. Since we've been back from our trip, our cupboards and refrigerator have been bare as a baby's bottom. That is our problem. It's time to beat this fat race. The farmers market is held every Tuesday at the Ferry Building so I brought my country basket, to be filled with wonderful and seasonal organic produce. Onward, to my local butcher on 22nd and Mission. The shopping is not complete until I have hit Rainbow Groceries and Trader Joe's. Why I can't find time in my weekend to tackle this adventure? There is no ending to this madness that is my laziness.

I can see the roll of eyes and the chirping of yuppie's smirking. Shane and I are at the stage in our lives where we are unable to afford exclusively organic and local farm raised protein. We would love to, but our budget doesn't allow such absurd frills. Whole Foods a.k.a. Whole Paycheck, is just out of our league. I can't justify paying for organic free range chicken at $15.99/pound. I had our own livestock growing up, and it didn't cost $15.99 to raise our chicken which inevitably landed on our dinner plate. Nothing will be as delicious as the live stock we raised growing up. Until the prices come down, I'll have my chicken in a cage and imprisoned please. Until organic prices plummet to reasonable, the organic evangelists will have to shush it.

Finally, a fully stocked fridge will get this here grease trap back on track. "Baby steps," I tell myself, "crawl, flunky, crawl." It shouldn't be difficult for ridiculous sake, it's food! It's just food! This is Shellie coming from her vein of vanity, back to you world!

Lesson: A grasshopper must learn to balance on chopstick.