Forty-four days of being hungry: that’s what this green coffee-bean diet has been like. Last night, on the way back from super-moon-gazing at the Jersey Shore, I stopped at a favorite burger joint: White Castle in Toms River, NJ; and downed four salacious cheeseburgers, an order of fried onion rings, and a decadent chocolate shake. Albeit, the burgers were the pint-sized variety; but nonetheless, the caloric content of everything consisted of two days’ worth of my normally less-than 1,000-calorie, per-day limit. With my not feeling guilty in the least bit, those sensational, greasy, heart-wrenching delicacies, and mouthwatering milk shake slid down my throat like a barreling bobsled, filling my belly like it hadn’t been filled since I’ve been on this entirely masochistic weight-loss program.
Weighing myself this morning, figuring I had gained a pound or two after yesterday’s White Castle pig out, I was pleasantly surprised my weight held steady at the 13-pound/5.9-kilogram loss thus far. Seven more pounds to go, and I’m so longing to gobble down a piece of apple pie à la mode with two scoops of Ben and Jerry’s Cherry Garcia Ice Cream, a hefty serving of lasagna, cheese-laden pizza with everything on it; or anything that’s super-fattening would do nicely to quell sufficiently my extremely noisy stomach that sounds like a barking dog—but most often like a roaring locomotive—and satisfy my insane cravings with a boatload of scrumptious sustenance.
Just before putting together this life-rendering entry, not to mess with my daily caloric quota, I broke open a tin of anchovies and ate six fillets—only twenty-five calories for the bunch—just to satisfy my intensified hunger with a salty aftertaste, making me think I had just scarfed down a few slices of heavenly cuisine from Andersoni’s Pizzeria. Now, is that total dedication to a dastardly diet, or instant insanity’s rearing its ugly head? You be the judge.
My next, big, diet-related event lands this week on Thursday, when my dentist, who looks and reminds me of Major Sidney Freeman (the psychiatrist on M*A*S*H), will install a permanent crown on my number-fourteen molar, which cracked under duress from eating almonds, another idiosyncratic part of this crazy diet. The good doctor is the type who wise-cracks while he’s drilling, making it hard to laugh at his jokes; but it eases the pain. Eleven hundred dollars later, as my crack dental insurance doesn’t cover crowns, but they would have paid for an extraction; I saved the tooth at least that was near nerve-death, which would have needed a root-canal procedure at a cost of at least another $500. Insurance doesn’t cover that either. Methinks, when open-enrollment time rolls around, the search for another insurance provider is in order.
The second batch of green coffee-bean extract, bought recently after my using up the first supply, is different than the initial brand and is not as effective for curbing my voracious appetite. When doing the dreaded food-shopping later this week as well, I’ll search for the original blend to eliminate the nagging craves experienced lately. On the flip side of this regimen, I have lost a significant amount of weight and feel a whole lot better, with increased energy and sounder sleep, encouraging me to continue with what seems to be a nonsensical diet. Please wish me continued success.