Love makes me chubby... and laziness. Definentely laziness.
Friday, May 01, 2015
The reality of the situation here is that my boyfriend and I suck at cooking. There, I said it. I admit it, I avoid cooking. I hate wasting food, so I'm afraid of ruining dinner and having to throw it out. I love looking for new recipes to try, but the majority of the "healthy" ones involve ingredients that I've no clue how to prepare or cause my inner child to run screaming. Yeah, I could just omit those parts... but what if they're a key component to the recipe? Hmm? I also don't want to make something that Jonathan dislikes. He won't come flat out and say he dislikes it (y'know, cuz he loves me and all that) but I want to make something we're actually going to enjoy. And then there's the whole business of cooking itself. It takes time, it takes effort, it means I'll have to clean up afterwards... don't ask me about the potential leftovers that never made it to the fridge and dried out overnight... We're lazy as hell when it comes to cooking. THIS is why I've gained 20 pounds in the last year and a half. Before Jonathan moved in with me I was roughly 165 pounds. Breakfast was cereal or peanut butter toast with milk. It was small, and just enough to keep me going until lunch break at work. Lunch at work... well, if I was motivated to take lunch it was like a school lunch. Cheese stick, sandwich, fruit, some kind of treat. If I didn't take lunch I went for fast food. Dinners were either skipped, or I ate something ridiculously small because I had no motivation to cook. Hey, I have an apple and a glass of milk. Dinner! Score! I went on somewhat regular walkies with my former roommate, and I can easily do several miles of walking just at work alone. I was still fat, but my clothes fit well and I didn't feel out of shape.
Let's fast forward to today. I'm at 184 pounds. Twenty pounds heavier than when he moved in a year and a half ago. We eat out constantly. I try to make good choices, and I don't order soda. We don't order desserts. He always makes me the decider if we do apps or not. More often than not I say no, not because I feel they're bad for me or forbidden, but because if we do I'm no longer hungry when my meal gets to the table, and... y'know, wasting food and all.
I've discovered he's a bit of a food pusher. No, he's not a "feeder" or anything, but he's definitely a food enthusiast. If we get an app, I will take one piece, and set it on my little plate. I nibble. As soon as he notices it's gone, he's putting another on my plate. I've teased him about it, I've said, "no thank you," I've called him out on his food pushing. He doesn't even realize he's doing it. Sometimes he jokes back, and sometimes he's genuinely sorry.
He is a big dude, and he is comfortable with his size. He was in the Marines where he gained a ton of muscle (and about 6" of height, hah!), and put on a belly after he left. He's a solid dude with great legs, and he likes where he is. He told me that he has actually dropped weight in the last year, and he eats more and worse than I do. *lol*
Last year, he and I were walking 6 miles every evening. He hadn't found work yet, and as I worked in the mornings it was easy to get out every evening. Saving the one outing where my shoe tore apart the back of my ankle, we had fun and felt great afterwards... but now he works all day, and our days off don't match up. And honestly, I don't like being out by myself. I'm not comfortable with it. I don't feel safe.
Geez, here I go rambling again... okay, back on track. This was about cooking. Last night I made chicken and rice with... itty bitty carroty things. *lol* If carrots are cooked and mushy I'm okay with them. Raw carrots... gah. Anyway, Jonathan's baked chicken always turns out dry as hell, which he combats with BBQ sauce. Bleh. When I bake chicken I prep it with seasonings and wrap the pieces in little foil "hobo bags" like we used to do over campfires and toss in the oven. MY chicken turns out amazingly juicy and flavorful. *lol* I'm also fond of throwing chicken in the slow cooker... I'm always forgetting to pull the chicken out to thaw in the morning, so sometimes dinner runs late. Right now I'm doing some black bean chicken thingie I found in SparkRecipes. It's got salsa, which is iffy on Jonathan's part, and corn, which he hates, so the corn's gonna be separate for me, and we've got whole wheat tortillas and lowfat cheese and other things...
Y'know, I came here to type about the mess I've got myself in and instead I'm talking about cooking. *lol* But yeah, I feel like I've got myself into a mess. So many clothes in my closet that are too tight right now. Of course, this motivates me to get up and out and get back to 160's, but I'm hella impatient. I want to go hardcore, balls-to-the-wall, and get back into my clothes next week. I want to obsess, I want to fill my every waking moment with intensity and drive to reach my goal, I want to... to be burdened with glorious purpose. *LOL* But I realize that's not healthy, not possible, and a surefire fail if there ever was one.
So... a rededication, then. Today is Beltane, May Day, whatever you want to call it. It is one of my favorite days of the year, and a perfect day to rededicate myself to me. To take care of me, to be better to me, and to do whatever is needful for me to be my best me. May today mark my last "starting over" entry, and the first day of lasting success.
May today also mark the last day of frost advisories until November. *lol*