Death By Granola

[I wrote this post a few days ago, before I had my blog up and running.]

This is my first blog post, and I’m not going to pretend like I have anything inspirational to say, because I don’t. Its 11am, and I’ve eaten the equivalent of two horses worth of granola and lots of yogurt. It’s not that granola is really that bad for you, but its very calorically dense so really you should only be eating a small amount. But lets be real here – who the eff ever eats a small amount of granola? Is that even possible? If you serve yourself a bowl of granola, lets say instead of cereal, for breakfast, you might pour about a cups worth into your bowl, and nom away as you would if you were eating a cup of Special K or Air-and-Water Flakes or Calorie-Free Puffs or some shit like that. But take 2 seconds to look at the nutrition facts on any box of granola, and you’ll quickly turn a blind eye, pretending you didn’t see that one serving is somewhere along the lines of ¼ cup, and that in that, you’ll be earning around 400 calories, half of which are from fat. So you pretend you saw nothing and try to enjoy your enormous bowl of heaven without the guilt. But you know better, and you tell yourself that next time you’ll measure out just one serving, and eat only that. And next time comes around, and you act ignorant again, because ignorance is bliss.

Until ignorance shows its face weeks later as a little extra bulge spilling over your pants and you vow to never eat granola again, and only eat lettuce and air. And then miraculously, granola appears in your pantry and you feel sad wasting it, you know, for the starving children, or, whatever, and you eat the whole damn box in one sitting because at least that way it will be gone from your sight and tomorrow you wont have to deal with its tempting little eyes ever again.

And thus is the cycle with granola. Or bread. Or cookies. Or pretty much anything delicious in the world.

So, yeah, I just ate a bunch of granola and it was so good as I was tasting it, but now I don’t taste it, I just feel it in my stomach, and I’m thinking about Oprah or whoever that said the clever little line, “A moment on the lip, a lifetime on the hip” and I’m starting to feel my post-granola guilt. Since today is Wednesday, which in au pair language means “your worst nightmare” (because kids don’t have school on Wednesdays in France, so you get to work 12+ hours that day with no time to yourself), I won’t be able to exercise, other than exercising my patience, and lets be real here, that’s not going to burn off my granola. Okay, well, maybe symbolically it will, if I learn to be more patient with myself in general, and learn to not expect change immediately, and of course patience is a virtue and all that, but shit, I don’t have any ever and I want abs NOW! And I want granola. Is it possible to have both?

 

Probably. If I ate the right serving size.

Damnit.

This is the shit that kills me every time. My host family buys it in bulk and I can’t escape it!

 

 

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2 thoughts on “Death By Granola

  1. […] some of you may recall from my first real post, the granola in this household stares at me on a daily basis and constantly yells at me, “PUT […]

  2. […] in the morning, I set the tone for the rest of the day. The moment I reached for a small handful of granola, I knew today would be difficult. Was it my knowledge of my upcoming “failures” that […]

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