Excuse me, guys, while I vent for a minute on something that's driving me absolutely bat shit crazy. Rather than just rant meaninglessly, I think it better to direct this to the cause of my current state (aka the edge of sanity), open letter style. Here goes...
Dear Sir/Madam:
Although I'm sure you're excited over your diet of the week, and you feel like a new person now that you've been enlightened (nutritionally speaking), we have to address your approach. I can only assume that you mean well and are attempting to save the world by sharing your newfound eating habits, HOWEVER:
- I don't need to know every calorie you've consumed.
- I truly don't care what size you wear; as long as you're covered appropriately, we're good.
- Believe it or not, the ingredient list to your homemade juice cleanse is NOT interesting conversation.
- Sitting at my desk while I eat is NOT an invitation for you to come and stand over me the entire time it takes me to eat, all while analyzing the contents of my snack or meal.
- Although your ability to recite verbatim every article you've read on why whatever I'm currently eating is bad for me IS indeed impressive, I'm probably not going to spit out what I'm chewing and abandon my habits on your say so.
- If you insist on using Mondays to outline your complete training circuit for the previous week, I'll make sure to reciprocate by recounting all of the items on my daily task list for the previous week, too.
- I don't need to see your My Fitness Pal log. I didn't care about the information when you delivered it verbally; seeing a snapshot of your log isn't suddenly going to make me give a shit.
- Having a bony, flat ass is not one of my life goals, but thanks anyway. I'll continue to feed the monster in my trunk.
- Unless you are part of my inner circle, and this is an intervention due to a real and immediate concern for a specific health issue, step off and let me eat my Snickers, sucka!
Thanks, I hope this clears up my blank expression and glazed over stare whenever you approach my desk. I had thought, perhaps, the few times that I didn't even look up to acknowledge you, and instead kept working and chewing, might've have been an indication of my complete lack of interest. My bad.
Signed,
Dear Sir/Madam:
Although I'm sure you're excited over your diet of the week, and you feel like a new person now that you've been enlightened (nutritionally speaking), we have to address your approach. I can only assume that you mean well and are attempting to save the world by sharing your newfound eating habits, HOWEVER:
- I don't need to know every calorie you've consumed.
- I truly don't care what size you wear; as long as you're covered appropriately, we're good.
- Believe it or not, the ingredient list to your homemade juice cleanse is NOT interesting conversation.
- Sitting at my desk while I eat is NOT an invitation for you to come and stand over me the entire time it takes me to eat, all while analyzing the contents of my snack or meal.
- Although your ability to recite verbatim every article you've read on why whatever I'm currently eating is bad for me IS indeed impressive, I'm probably not going to spit out what I'm chewing and abandon my habits on your say so.
- If you insist on using Mondays to outline your complete training circuit for the previous week, I'll make sure to reciprocate by recounting all of the items on my daily task list for the previous week, too.
- I don't need to see your My Fitness Pal log. I didn't care about the information when you delivered it verbally; seeing a snapshot of your log isn't suddenly going to make me give a shit.
- Having a bony, flat ass is not one of my life goals, but thanks anyway. I'll continue to feed the monster in my trunk.
- Unless you are part of my inner circle, and this is an intervention due to a real and immediate concern for a specific health issue, step off and let me eat my Snickers, sucka!
Thanks, I hope this clears up my blank expression and glazed over stare whenever you approach my desk. I had thought, perhaps, the few times that I didn't even look up to acknowledge you, and instead kept working and chewing, might've have been an indication of my complete lack of interest. My bad.
Signed,
P.S. I can appreciate your mission of self improvement, but just to be clear: I don't count as self, so stop trying to improve me. I am not your mission.
P.P.S. You are walking proof that whatever you're doing DOESN'T work. Go sell it to someone else. And eat something for goodness sake.
P.P.S. You are walking proof that whatever you're doing DOESN'T work. Go sell it to someone else. And eat something for goodness sake.