I am on a diet: a lament

I'm trying to write a blog here, but I'm on a diet, and it takes a lot of focus. I pretty much have to think about food all day long, because I'm restricting myself from certain things, so that makes my brain compensate for the lack of pleasure with just constant, obsessive thoughts about eating. I don't even discriminate, I think about broccoli almost as often as I think about a SONIC BUTTERFINGER BLAST OMG.

Food. I love it so. I mean, I don't think I'm totally normal how much I love it. I would be more concerned about it if I cared. So fasting is the worst. I mean, I do it, and I totally understand the intangible religious benefits, but man. It is the worst. Fasting is worse than dieting. I'm trying to make myself feel better, sitting here snacking on a plastic tub of baked cauliflower. It's a 10 day diet, a fat burning diet, and I'm on day 2. I can eat lean meats, vegetables, fruits, eggs and beans, just survival food. Just staying alive, stayin alive.

It's just... what is the point? What is the point of anything, when you can't eat tortillas? Why am I here? Today I took the kids to McDonald's and I ate a salad and drank water, like some kind of prisoner.

And the thing is, I just chase that high, that french fry high, that satisfaction that comes from eating something that tastes awesome. I eat eggs for breakfast,and there's no joy. So I think, maybe some Greek yogurt, some berries. A few grapes. Some soggy curry-spiced cauliflower. And while I'm chewing, I'm okay, but then it's over and somewhere, people are eating chocolate chip cookies. Oh man, when this thing is over, I might pendulum so hard over to Cookie World of Happiness.

Somebody out there is analyzing this, determining that I use food as an emotional crutch. Of course I do, because I have to eat something, it might as well taste like butter and salt. Or chocolate.