Just Another Day

5:20am Dress silently for the gym in the dark.

5:30am Toddler appears in the doorway of his room, sniffling, says, “Why are you doing this to me?” Please, kid, only my inner thighs get to ask that.

5:32am Attempt in vain to convince son that his father is as genetically and emotionally invested in him as I am, which might be more evident if he weren’t comatose at this moment.

5:35am Lie beside child in bed whispering, “Was it not enough to make me fat? Now you must keep me fat?” over and over.

5:42am Initiate Silent Log Roll Out of Bed into Crouching Tiger, Hidden Mother once child is asleep. But he is never asleep.

5:45am Jettison plans to exercise and return to bed with child.

5:47am Grim realization that I’ve lost another cup size by sleeping in a sports bra.

7:30am Feed everyone breakfast except for myself because I am now obviously fasting.

7:47am Feeling sluggish, mind hazy, consumed with thoughts about food that I am not eating. That I will not eat. Because food is my nemesis. Along with that woman who refused to scan my groceries because I had two more items than the eligible amount for Fast Checkout.

7:52am Consider that juicing might be easier than fasting.

7:54am Stare bitterly at the smoothie ingredients I assembled: tomato paste, nutmeg, and expired yogurt.

7:56am Determine that low-carb might be easier than juicing. This is about sustainable lifestyle modification, after all.

7:58am Consider that shaving more regularly may help to shed weight and reduce drag.

8:00am Contemplate the advantages to fasting: fewer dishes, reduced grocery bill, less-fat fat pants, time to ponder life’s great mysteries, like what ‘hooking up’ really means.

8:07am My resolve is crumbling like a cookie. I want a cookie. I need a cookie. I would kill everyone in this room for a cookie.

8:09am I need a spiritual leader to guide me through this valley of shadow and death and cookie wanting. I bet they’re expensive. Maybe a sensei is cheaper. Or a life coach. She’ll tell me I need a job. Maybe a choreographer. She’ll dress me in a leotard. A dealer. Yes, a dealer.

8:20am What is the age recommendation on this puzzle? If three year olds can master this then my neurological function is surely impaired by this state of asceticism. Whatever, kids, I couldn’t finish it before I was fasting, don’t ask more of me now.

8:23am How did Mia Farrow fast for nearly 2 weeks? After a dozen years with Woody Allen, everything else probably seems expedient.

8:26am I have an inexplicable urge to eat this hand cream.

8:38am Why, my husband, are you asking what is for lunch? How can you possibly be inquiring after lunch when you still have remnants of breakfast on your face? It’s not as though you’re on a goddamn fast without an herbalist and a person to massage away your free radicals. Wait – just hold still – you have a crumb of English Muffin on your collar. Just shake gently – GENTLY – so it falls into my mouth. It doesn’t count if I collide with it.

8:50am I know you’re just an American Express customer service representative, but you’re supposed to offer personal service, anytime day or night. I just need someone to talk to for the next 72 hours. Please, don’t hang up or I will transfer my balance to — Hello?

8:56am No amount of You Tube videos will get me through this. All I can think when I see this deer and this dog who have become best friends is that I want to dip their legs in a satay sauce.

9:02am The Today Show will distract me. Oh, Christ, the Hoda and Kathie Lee section. I’d sooner die of anemia than watch this absurdity.

9:05am Watching Kathie Lee talk about the importance of eating kale chips and having personal space while I eat Gorgonzola with a spoon.