Weekend Warrior

The title would imply someone with strength who chooses to save the world on their day off. Let me make one thing very clear, that's not me! I like to be as lazy as humanly possible on the weekends. That laziness is often accompanied by a round of guilt so I'll do something crazy like... mow the lawn. It keeps my husband from thinking I'm a fat slob and in my mind brings me one step closer to earth shattering sex. Disclaimer...the latter of that last statement has yet to happen. Sorry Mom....I do the nasty! Anywho, most weekends require me to go into full on battle mode. Against what you ask? Hmmmm....this blog is all about dysfunctional eaters so take a stab at it! My weekdays are very scheduled and militant thus keeping me on track with my eating for the most part. You may be amazed to know that I work out quite alot during the week. Of course this is just to build up the ole' calorie bank so that I have a good excuse to eat french fries when the mood strikes. Always in the mood, fyi. When Friday hits I have to pre-plan the battle that is the weekend. Junk food is my war on terrorism. Instead of bombs & sleeper cells I battle "weapons of my destruction"... donuts and fried food.

Yes, I am slowly killing myself via Krispy Kreme and McDonalds. Monday through Friday I have the will to be that someone who can make it through an entire week without eating something bad. I see this"someone" everyday. She's thin, hot and resembles me except for the thin part. I reach for her but instead of throwing me her hand she throws me a Big Mac! Ungrateful whore. On the weekends I never see her. I guess she's off terrorizing other fatties. That leaves me to myself. Never a good thing. Friday night brings dinner & drinks. Saturday brings unscheduled time alone, overwhelming desires to eat and severe lack of motivation. Sunday is church. I pray that God will save me from myself but apparently he's not into issues of vanity as I typically partake in mindless church eating as a form of socializing. There is that glimmer of hope on Sunday night when I pack my bag for the gym on Monday. I do a couple of rounds in the mirror, look at my battle wounds and plan a new attack starting Monday. I often think of shock therapy via the scale but I'm already beaten down and can take no more. The scale is my secret weapon. It's always there but I only use it in times of severe highs and lows. It's dangerous people.

As with any war we must take battle and victory in small bouts. Anything less would be overwhelming. So I ask you, "If you've been fighting the same war for 35 years and are still holding onto the enemy, will you ever give up?" Stay tuned...