Tonight I was eating brown sugar out of the jar for dinner, as one does, and I remembered how I had promised this morning, when my pants didn’t fit, that I would eat better starting NOW.
So I decided if I was going to keep eating sugar I had to do squats while I ate. I did 25 squats, until I couldn’t breathe.
The other night I was standing in the kitchen in my sweatsuit (because on days that ends in Y between November and March I exclusively wear sweatsuits) eating brown sugar out of the jar with my fingers and I had a thought.
Well a few thoughts.
First was “it’d be pretty humiliating if anyone knew I not only ate sugar straight from the jar but couldn’t even bother doing it with a spoon” immediately followed by “holy shit brown sugar is delicious” and then “there’s a blog in here somewhere.”
So this is that blog.
Painfully single, (semi) unemployed by (semi) choice, and dating my couch…this is the story of girls in their 30s who hate pants and biological clocks, among other things.
PS: Definitely make the effort to put your brown sugar in a jar. It stays soft that way, and when you’re scooping it directly into your mouth with your fingers you don’t have to worry about your whole hand getting sugary like it does when you stick it in the bag.