I’m hungry. The title isn’t any kind of metaphor, I am literally hungry and I’m writing about it. My stomach is current growling as I write.
You see, I’m on a diet. This little tidbit of information is relatable because: aren’t we all? Some of us are on the “eat nothing” diet, which is both very easy and very hard. Some of us are on the ozempic diet (the ones with money and nothing else to lose—or rather still a lot to lose, I suppose). Some of us are on the healthy food diet, and those people I’ll never understand because, no, your quinoa breakfast bowl does not taste good and never will.
Some of us are on the cheater’s diet. That’s a great diet to be on. You say you’re on a diet, then you cheat, eat five hamburgers, and claim that actually you’re starting tomorrow. Myself, I’ve been on that diet many times. It’s delicious and you should try it.
Right now I’m on the “don’t eat so much, piggy” diet. It’s a cousin to the “eat nothing” diet, but different, since you have to actually eat. It’s an alluring diet, because you can tell yourself, “I can still go out to the Olive Garden if I want, I just have to keep it within 600 calories” and then you see that the whole meal is 3000 calories, so you eat one bite of a breadstick, two forkfuls of salad, and one-third of your pasta before a little bell dings in your head saying, “no more!” Then you’re stuck sitting there with the new basket of bread the server just slapped down and your compatriots who are slurping up their Fettuccini Alfredo like it’s their last meal.
In any case, point being, I’m hungry. And it sucks. Just wanted you to know.