Healthy Food Makes Me Want to Hurl

I've been on this feeble quest in the last 4 months to bring down my very annoying, problematic blood sugar. And to do that, and to lose the 10 pounds that will assist me in doing that, I must eat much more in the way of healthy food and less of the food that I worship.

I despise healthy food. I hate it like a paper cut between the fingers. Right at this moment, I'm boiling half a dozen eggs so I can inject some protein into my breakfasts. I have never been fond of eggs in any fashion, mostly because when I'm chewing them, I invariably have a moment when I realize exactly what they are, and my gag reflex kicks in so hard that my head flies backward like a Pez dispenser.

And then there are apples. I have tried to work on my relationship with apples. My sister, who sickens me in many ways with her healthy lifestyle, eats, you guessed it, an apple a day. She rarely goes anywhere without her apple and her water bottle. In contrast, I prefer to carry a chocolate bar the size of a life raft and a liter of Pepsi.

I do my best with apples when I bring home small ones. They look manageable. I can eat one quickly and be done with it. I don't have to get all involved with them. And their pitiful smallness makes me feel slightly sorry for them and I hate them less. But yesterday at the grocery store, all the apples were huge. Obnoxiously huge. I bought 5, and they were $5.21. This is ridiculous. This is, like, a nickel a bite. And that's if I could finish one of the appalling things in 20 bites, which I can't, because they're basketball sized and the little stickers on them look lost and overwhelmed, like the label on a fat girl's jeans. And I won't tell you how livid I became when, at the check out, I looked down at my precious friends the candy bars, and realized that for the price of these bald red medicine balls, I could have given a home to eight of my real friends. I realize that most people don't devour their friends, but I'm astonishingly complex, you know.

How did Eve ever throw all of the future of mankind away for a dull, benign apple? If the serpent had told me I could gain knowledge from eating from that tree, I'd have told him to stick one of those apples up his tight serpent ass. And as he was pondering the painful Richard Gere-ness of his situation, I'd extract the directions to the Cadbury factory (which I'm certain originated in Eden) from him. That's all the knowledge I want. As for the rest? I'm happy to stay in the dark.