Healthy living is for the birds. I miss the days long ago (four, to be precise) where I was blissfully fat and happy, struggling into my sole pair of fitting pants but oh so enjoying that slice of cheese pizza. Now my life is reduced to no dairy, no gluten, and no sugar. That pretty much means a hearty meal now consists of a nice gulp of air and a refreshing slurp of water.
Tonight I dined on gluten-free, yeast-free, wheat-free, taste-free bread. It came in a freeze wrapped package, like something you send, along with a profuse apology, up in space with an astronaut. Mmmm. I bought some vegan cheese to go with it, but my stomach recoiled upon the first jiggly bite.
On the plus side, my waist has trimmed down a bit, but even that is hard to enjoy that when you're suffering from a headache and longing for even just a little bite of fruit. You never realize how many products contain dairy and sugar until you actually stop and read the labels. It's amazing. I don't want a donut (although it wouldn't be turned away), I just miss the basics, like a bit of cream for my coffee and a slice of toast in the morning.
Those with severe food allergies, I bow down to you. This restrictive diet is not for the light of heart or weak of stomach. It's boring, bland, and repetitive, but alas, I should be grateful, because it is food (at least they claim). I'm sure I shall look back at this little venture and laugh at the melodrama with which I reluctantly embraced it, but that day is far, far off from today.