I recently got back the results of some bloodwork and was shown in black and white what I already knew. I’ve gotta eat better and I’ve gotta exercise. Fine.
So I’m cleaning and I’m getting hungry and thinking about lunch and brain says, “Hey, you should have a salad”.
Yeah, I should have a salad! My brain is all over this.
I get the lettuce out of the fridge and wash it. Take it over to the trash can to peel the outer layer off and drop the whole head into the trash. Apparently, my brain is having a hard time getting my body on board with the whole salad plan.
I had literally JUST taken out the trash so the lettuce had fallen into an empty bag. I reach in, grab the lettuce, wash it again, walk over to the trash can to get the outer layer off (again) and drop the lettuce on the floor. Son of a…
Get the lettuce again, wash it again, and hold it in a death grip until I get it over my bowl. Ok, we’re good. Won that battle. My brain had already decided the salad was going to have tomatoes. Pick up a tomato, wash it (in a G.I. Joe kung fu grip) and have it over the bowl ready to cut. Didn’t drop it! Yeah!
And then my body is like, “Nah dawg, it ain’t gonna be that easy” and I stab myself in the hand. Not a little cut, I mean a forceful puncture.
See? I could have been killed!
But then I realize that my body is just mad because it had no part in the decision making process. So we decide together that we’re gonna do this, but only if there’s extra dressing. To the point that it’s really not considered ‘healthy’ anymore.
I guess I won’t go to the emergency room or anything, but dude. That was a close one.