I Blame Whole Foods for My Weight Issues

Yesterday at the gym, I sat down at one end of a metal bench in the locker room to change my sneakers. Mistake. The other end of the bench soared into the air, not unlike the unoccupied side of a teeter-totter that has a hippo on the other end. I leapt wide-eyed to my feet, sending it clanging back down on the concrete floor.

"Well, that's never a good sign, " I told my best friend, who snorted behind her hand in an unsuccessful effort to hold in her laughter. She later claimed to be laughing "with" me.

I share this with you for two reasons:

1. I actually went to the gym, and I generally like to publicize that as much as possible.

2. Yeah, I've put on a few pounds in the last few months.

3. It is 100% Whole Foods' fault.

Despite my ardent letter-writing campaign, Whole Foods has neglected to build a store in my town. The closest one is an hour and twenty minutes away. Not exactly convenient for dashing over to grab a dozen hormone-free eggs or when I have a craving for a random tropical fruit, like a cherimoya (which, no doesn't happen that often, or even actually ever, but I'm making a point here). IF I wanted a cherimoya, I would have to drive an hour and twenty minutes to get one and that's ridiculous because of the price of gas and the fact that I don't technically know what a cherimoya is. Don't worry, though, because I've taken revenge on Whole Foods by eating a whole lot of processed crap in the past five months. So, really, I'm the winner here.

And I do understand that there are quite a few organic and healthful things for sale right in my local supermarket, but it's no damn fun to purchase them without the correct store ambiance of wood floors, artful displays of produce with names I can't pronounce, a gelato bar, and a make-your-own granola station. Whole Food makes me feel all healthy and like a person who would want to buy those foods. Hannaford makes me want to buy Oreos, Diet Pepsi, and Teddy Grahams. It's completely beyond my control.

I should also mention that along with inappropriate snacking issues, I also have a minor problem with denial. Here, take the following test and see how you do.

SCENARIO #1:

Over the course of several weeks, you notice that your pants are becoming tight. You conclude:

a. Hmm, perhaps I've put on a few pounds.

b. Damn cheap synthetic fibers. These pants are defective.

c. Perhaps my husband is secretly doing the laundry, and we all know he does it wrong.

SCENARIO #2:

You are walking next to your children, when you notice that while their shadows seem proportionately correct, yours is looking a bit wider than normal. You conclude:

a. Hmm, perhaps I've put on a few pounds.

b. They must be walking closer to the sun, therefore their shadows are smaller.

c. Clearly, my shadow is broken.

SCENARIO #3:

You notice that your face is looking chubbier than normal in photographs. You conclude:

a. Hmm, perhaps I've put on a few pounds.

b. The camera lens is distorting my face.

c. I should really buy new makeup.

If you are me, the answer is NEVER "a".

This is all by way of telling you that suddenly, yesterday, I realized that the answer actually IS "a". And to warn you that things might get a whole lot bitchier around here. I'm giving that new fad diet called "Eat Less and Move More, You Lazy Cow" a whirl.

I'll let you know how it goes.