Five Things I Love That I Need To Break Up WIth

In trying to make life simpler, more zen and spacious, I am trying to do away with clutter both internal and external. Sure, it wasn’t easy to let go of my entire run of 1990s Wonder Woman issues (I seriously don’t know how they thought that bicycle-pants/leather jacket look was going to stand the test of time), but I’m coming to some realizations.

I am in love. And I am in love with some things that any relationship expert would tell me to break up with post-haste. The red flag are all there.

And yet … I know I can change them! And then they’ll love me back!

5. Nachos. I tried to delude myself that being gluten-free and less fat didn’t mean these fried chips and mounds of cheese were somehow, if not nutritional, were still somehow okay. They are not and should be treated like a toxic ex that asks for the nude cellphone pics you took back because he dropped his phone in the toilet. 

4. Gossip. Holy Mocha Jesus, do I live for some scoop. I try to say “Hey, it’s not gossip if I don’t repeat it. I’m just amassing information that will one day help me take down my enemies.”  This is A) unlikely and B) Who do I think I am? The Red Skull?

3. HGTV Marathons. “But it’s Sunday! That’s what everyone is doing!” NO! Some people are renovating their homes so they can be ON an HGTV show, not watching some hapless, staged couple ALWAYS pick the wrong house. We could BE that hapless, staged couple, I’m telling you!

2. Häagen Dazs. Blame the hubby for this. He can eat a whole pint and not gain weight. Sugar, even high-fructose corn syrup (which MANY of these flavors have, so shame, HD!) doesn’t affect him. Me, on the other hand … I gained a pound and 3/4 just posting this picture. But what else am I supposed to use to stuff down my feelings of inadequacy while sitting on the sofa all Sunday watching House Hunters?

1. Coffee. Yeah, this is simply an abusive relationship I’ve come to accept. Occasionally, I try to cut back, but it calls to me. Its earthy aroma beckons and I yell, “I wish I knew how to quit you!” But I don’t, really. 

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