Hypocrisy

Today was a slow day. Downtime between semesters = fewer students on campus = blessed, rare open appointment slots = more time with the few patients who happen be around.

Consequence: actual time to spend on actual health promotion-type counseling. And not only my faves, like safer sex (because I always find time for topics that actually interest me. how many times have I found myself running behind because I can’t seem to get a convo about herpes back on the rails? so many). No, these days, I have no excuses not to talk about things like exercise. And stress management.

And…diet. Ugh, diet.

Unintended consequence: overwhelming sense of profound shame as I realize that while I spent a not-insignificant amount of time today earnestly counseling patients about the benefits of a plant-based diet and loading 50% of your plate with fruits and vegetables and generally not eating processed crap every day of your life, I consumed:

1. 3 cups of coffee in an approximately 3:2 ratio with the sweetest of sweet vanilla flavored creamer (caloric density approximately equal to melted vanilla ice cream – yes, I’ve checked)

2. 1 slice of the neighbor’s holiday pumpkin/walnut/raisin pound cake, breakfast of champions

3. some sort of sad microwaved marinara ziti thing (work lunch, what can I say)

4. a single small mandarin orange (I brought two, but the second one tasted a little funny, so)

5. 2 generous servings of small bits of chicken, breaded, fried, and tossed in a sweet soy glaze (thank you forever for your delicious attempt at recreating General’s chicken, Trader Joe)

6. a glass of wine, because Friday

7. delicious, sticky white rice to go with the salty sweet chicken

8. a cookie, dipped in chocolate and tiny bits of candy cane

9. another half glass of wine, because cookie + wine = yum

10. a generous slice of ridiculously decadent chocolate peppermint cake for second dessert

11. yet another half glass of wine, because you can’t eat chocolate cake without red wine, pretty sure it’s illegal

And that’s my day. 24 hours, and 1 orange for my entire fruit/veg consumption. And we’re not even a talking a regular-sized orange, but one of those tiny things rebranded as “Cuties” in an attempt to improve shelf appeal. Regular oranges scoff at diminutive nicknames like “Cuties”. Not so for my tiny, adorable mid-afternoon snack.

…

So. When does the semester start again?