No more writing before lunch

I did it. I started a food journal. Enough was enough. Being at home all day waiting for the world to come back into order has allowed me too much time and freedom to go into my fridge and eat everything in sight.

“It’s like I need a bouncer at my fridge.” – Craig Robinson on “Laugh Aid”

Chips? Just a couple… empties entire bag into bowl. Peanut butter? Just a spoonful…. grabs a goddamned ladle. Trail mix? Just a handful… onto yogurt, fruit, protein powder, cereal and somehow bacon.


It’s an equation, that’s all it is. Food item + what rational bullshit I tell myself = What actually happens.

When you add in the food journal, it adds a step of honesty to it. Now it’s …

Food item + rationale I give myself + write down in journal = Rational outcome.

Damnit. Now I’m holding myself accountable? Ok, but I get to enjoy myself on Sundays. Deal.

I must have been eating close to 5,000 calories a day just in mindless eating. Not eating to meet macros, not eating all veggies, not looking to become the next powerlifting champion. Just mindless, excessive eating.

Normally, when the world was operable and there were these things called “gyms,” I would use the “gym” to exercise early, be productive all day with work and chores, then I would allow myself to eat from dinner (usually about 8 or 830) until 10 or 10:30. Within that timespan, there would be plenty of consumption… probably equal to what’s being consumed in the mindless-eating-phase.

But there was so much exertion throughout the day. There were so many other things to keep your mind OFF of food that you never really thought about it. Then by the time you got home and food was placed in front of you and you KNEW you could eat it, it was such a reward. To know that you earned your meal and it was time to feast gave you a sense of joy. “Oh no! I’m over my calories!” Maybe, but when you’re moving all day, a few extra calories won’t set you back.

The food journal forces me to write down exactly what I’ve eaten. I’m not specific to the point of counting grains of rice or measuring everything out, I’m just honest with myself.

Honesty. That’s all we need. If we continue to lie to ourselves about what we’re eating and how much, it’s easy to let things sneak in. But the moment you KNOW you have to write it down… do I really want that trail mix or am I eating out of boredom? Do I need a 2nd serving of dinner? If I don’t feel okay writing it down then it’s not happening. How about a snack AFTER dinner? Sure, but look how long that list is on your food journal, do you really think you should?

I’m not sure what it is about writing something down that forces us to be so honest with ourselves, perhaps it’s like a mirror for your mind – like when you stare in the mirror you KNOW what you look like. Maybe this is on the same spectrum? But that’s not the conversation for today because I’m hungry. My food journal has nothing but “Coffee+MCT+Stevia” on it.

It’s time for lunch. A salad. A salad with eggs. A salad with eggs, cheese, and buffalo chicken. A salad with eggs, cheese, buffalo chicken and avocado, A Salad with eggs, cheese, buffalo chicken, avacado and


About krisoakey

Simply a man playfully chasing enlightenment while encouraging others to join him through mockery, logical anomalies, and hand holding...LOTS of hand holding
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