Sometimes, you just gotta say, “Fuck it.”

I’ve been dealing with weight issues for a few years now. I’m not going say “struggling” or “battling” because I think those words are over-used and stupid. There hasn’t been a struggle. There hasn’t been a battle. There have been moments where I gave a shit, and there have been moments where I haven’t given a shit. That’s about has complicated as it gets. For the past couple of years, I’ve been in a mode where I give a shit. I’m not a health nut, or anything. Far from it. And I’m not a gym rat, either. I just saw a picture of myself one day a couple of years ago and decided, “Eh, maybe it’s time I gave a shit again.”

Now, knowing who I am and being unwilling to change that, I had to come up with a new way of eating, because what I was doing wasn’t working and I damn sure wasn’t about to join a gym. I decided to cut out sugar and bread. The sugar was easy(ish). I stopped drinking all sodas; left the cookies, the cakes, and the ice cream on the stores shelves where they belong; and cut out bread and pasta. Oddly enough, I thought sugar and soda would be the hard part, but it wasn’t nearly as tough as giving up pasta. Italian has always been one of my four major food groups.

Fast forward about 5 months, and I’m down 40┬ápounds. That’s just from cutting those things out of my diet. Since I brought the word up, let’s talk about it for a sec. If you’re having weight issues, or simply don’t want to be a big, fat fuck anymore, understand that a lot of this shit is in your head. Using the word “diet” is setting yourself up for failure, because that word has a bit of a temporary connotation to it. It’s something that people do to look better for a reunion or a wedding. Or because summer is coming up. That’s all fine and good, but as soon as those events or over with, the “diet” goes away, and you’re back on the road to being a big, fat fuck again. So let’s stop using that word. You’re not going on a diet. Instead, you’re “changing the way you eat”. That sounds a little more permanent, doesn’t it? It’s not a fad, or a trend. Changing the way you eat lasts all year long.

Not that that’s out of the way, let’s get back to the point. What was the point? Shit. Let me re-read real quick…

Oh right: My current state of giving a shit. Back in the days of not giving a shit, I used to justify it by saying, “If I ate right, exercised, and did everything I was supposed to in order to lead a healthy life, what is the end game? What is the result of that effort? Death.” You see, no matter happens, how good you are or how bad you are, at the end you’re still headed for the dirt. So why go through the torture and work yourself stupid trying to look like you live in the pages of a magazine? Because I don’t want to look like shit when that day comes. I don’t want to have to buy an extra-wide casket, or pay more for extra briquettes when they burn my fat ass. It’s simple vanity and thriftiness that keeps me out of the cookie aisle, not a desire to live forever.

Most of the time.

Sometimes, though, you just have to say “Fuck it.” I had nothing going on last night. I was sitting at home, bored off my ass, and God dammit, I wanted some chocolate cake. So you know what I did? I went and bought a fucking chocolate cake, that’s what. You know why? Why the fuck not, that’s why. I’m a grown-ass man that makes my own money, and if I want to sit on the couch, eat cake, and watch Jaws, well, motherfucker, that’s what I’m going to do.

fuck it

This is what “Fuck It” looks like

And you know what? It was good. And I’ll even do you one better…

fuck it part two

This is what “Fuck It” looks like for breakfast.

Does this mean I’ve fallen off the wagon? No. Absolutely not. It just means I wanted some cake, and tomorrow is a new day. That’s really my point. If you are one of those that are in a constant struggle with weight – don’t freak out about it. Stop “dieting” and just change the way you eat. Kill the sugar and the bread, eat your meats and vegetables, and if every now and then you fall off the wagon, or like in this case, fall off the wagon and get ran the fuck over by it, it’s okay. It’s not the end of the world and you can always start again tomorrow. Sure, you want to be healthier. Sure, you want to look good. But for fuck’s sake, don’t drive yourself off a cliff over it. What matters most is that you’re happy. Nobody on their death-bed ever said they wished they had eaten less ice cream. Okay, maybe a diabetic has, but that’s different…

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