Full Metal Jacket


I need my standard-issue Kevlar vest, STAT.

I have just learned the exact weight of the receptionist at my office. The whole Weight Watchers crew was having an intimate discussion of weight and Points (I still for the life of me cannot figure out Points). I don’t get what the deal is. I don’t give a rat’s ass what you weigh or what you ate this past weekend. I feel like I’m working through one giant WW meeting. Except I don’t work at Weight Watchers. In fact, I don’t even watch my weight, since I don’t weigh myself, nor do I have any intention of doing so in the near future.

Get the point?

I need some dudes from Halliburton to come around and stand guard by my desk. I don’t expect them to actually stop all of the diet talk, but at least they could lounge around all big and burly looking. Then, if some person started talking pounds and Points, they could say, in a menacing Clint Eastwood voice, “Ya really want to start talking about diets, punk?”

It’s the least they could do for a government employee working in a toxic environment. If I were working in the infectious disease clinic, OSHA would mandate that I be issued an N95 respirator to prevent infection. If I were at a construction site, I would have to have a hard hat.

Instead, I have to develop a hard head. Harder head, really. The density of my skull has never EVER been questioned.

I don’t want to hear about your sex life, nor do I want to hear about your food life. I have spent far too much time thinking about that crap, and I don’t want to hear it from you. I don’t want to hear how hard it is to avoid the paczkis in the break room (the custard are fabulous, might I add), or how guilty you feel after knocking off a whole box of Valentine’s chocolates in one sitting.

I want to throw a rocket-propelled grenade at the table of “healthy snacks” with the Points labeled in big black marker on the packages. If I’m going to eat, I’m going to eat real food. Not packaged, processed stuff, however low-fat it might be.

And if you won’t eat the gigundo filled donuts you brought in, I will.

I think my flak jacket will still zip afterwards.

4 comments:

æ said...

ahh, just found your blog through Pavlovna, LOVED this post. Are women socially sanctioned to talk about anything but dieting??

mary said...

Sheesh Carrie, you sure have alot of brain chatter going on. LOL A Kevlar vest? grenades aimed the healthy snack table? Rocket propelled? Why not just get a jet pack and blast on out of there?
Keep up the good work as your brain chatter is healthy. It's got to be tough working daily with people who are contrast to your goal. You were never meant to be a loser.
Maybe ear plugs or a CD player would work better than a vest? Keep gobbling up their temptations though!

Laura Collins said...

I wish it was a shocking irony that a hard-working recovering anorexic would end up in a work environment so toxic, but...

You are describing every darned office in the country, I'm afraid.

We are a sick society. YOU are the one in recovery, but the rest of us need to get our acts together.

CARRIE ARNOLD said...

ae,

Appparently not. There's a whole list of other things. Methinks I shall post that in a bit.

Mary,

Since I'm in emergency preparedness, I'd probably be involved in any cleanup efforts, so perhaps not. Only a couple more days of this crap.

Laura,

While I think dieting is the ore mined in damn near every office in this glorious country of ours, I think I've hit the mother lode. YOU and the wonderful parents you work with have your heads screwed on straight. Not that every parent should have to deal with an anorexic kid, but it would certainly be eye-opening.

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I'm a science writer, a jewelry design artist, a bookworm, a complete geek, and mom to a wonderful kitty. I am also recovering from a decade-plus battle with anorexia nervosa. I believe that complete recovery is possible, and that the first step along that path is full nutrition.

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Have any questions or comments about this blog? Feel free to email me at carrie@edbites.com



nour·ish: (v); to sustain with food or nutriment; supply with what is necessary for life, health, and growth; to cherish, foster, keep alive; to strengthen, build up, or promote



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