Red, orange, green. Round, long, cylindrical. I stare hard at the spread in front of me. There are different shapes, sizes, and colors, yet lack appeal.
What am I doing?
I step away from the kitchen island and turn my back to those unappealing beings.
What do I have to do with you?
Inasmuch as I am filled with disgust at their sight, I turn back around and look on in awe. In a few minutes, I am going to pass on the reins of control over my life to them. For 60 days, 60 whole days! I wonder at how they came about such power.
How did I get here?
I collapse on the floor into a heap of sobs and tears as the past years come floating by, a memory at a time; a bite at a time. They flood my mind and my being and I am sucked into a well of sinking emotions.
This is no time for self-pity. I pick myself up and stare at the walls of my beautiful kitchen, painted in olive green. I remember how irate I became when I discovered that Lowes had shipped a container of dark green paint as opposed to my preferred choice, olive green.
You’ve got to be kidding me!
I hurried over to the closest physical store, two towns away. A trip I did not have the time to make, yet I was forced to. Everything had to be picture perfect. All my utensils, dishware, and pans had something olive green, whether it was their handles or patterns. In my mind I had huge plans. I will invite my neighbors, friends, and colleagues over to dine in my beautiful kitchen. Their laughter will bounce off the walls and my cheeks will glow with pride at the flattering comments made about my cooking.
I have never tasted anything better.
You should have been a chef.
This beats my mother’s and grandmother’s combined.
Those were comments I heard in my dreams that were never birthed into reality. But this, this is real. I am real. Disgustingly real! I cannot bear to let my eyes meet my reflection in the mirror.
I see that guilt beneath the shame,
I see your soul through your window pane,
I see the scars that remain,
I see me…
My colleagues at work urge me to delete that song from my IPod. That song is so depressing… and they drone on and on as I let the lyrics resonate in my brain.
For the first time since Lil Wayne surfaced in the pop industry, I empathize with him. The mirror on the wall is truly my one and only friend. It saw me when I rushed in and out from work, 6 a.m. to 11 p.m., the daily grind. It cried for me when I returned each day with bags of poison from one drive-thru after another.
It was the first and only person that told me the truth.
You have become fat! It screamed.
I begin work on my spread. They do not look that powerful anymore. Who would have thought that some spinach, kale greens, celery, apples, carrots, and cucumbers could look so daunting? I have the right tools to curtail their frightening demeanor. My highly-powered Jack-LaLanne juicer and expert knives will cut them back down to size. I can do this. I will stick to my 60-day juice fast. Yes! I am regaining my power and losing weight. Let Day 1 begin!