Celery: (n) a cultivated plant of the parsley family
An ounce of consecration yields a pound of cure.
As human beings we spend an awful lot of time complaining about how much effort it takes to get results. Nothing is further from the truth.
Every once in a while, I build up such consecration to lose weight. There are two actions that tell me I’m serious about the endeavor:
- I start quoting the calories in the food set before me, and
- I develop an almost mystical interest in celery
Yes, I literally hypnotize myself into believing it makes a great snack, and since it really has no calories, it is able to trick my body into thinking that we are dining without actually plumping.
I think my record is four days.
Yes–four glorious days when I consumed celery, acting as if it were potato chips. Then came Day 5.
It was a very simple fall from grace. It began with a statement: “You know what would be good with this celery?”
At first I showed great restraint. I merely dipped my green stalk into some low-calorie ranch dressing. But that was a little too watery and didn’t cling well. So I switched to regular ranch dressing, trying to be careful about how much I used.
After about two days, I grew tired of the taste of ranch and discovered that cheese whip was delicious on the celery. Now, I was cautious not to put too much of the goo into the provided groove. (After all, if the celery did not want me to have a condiment with it, why did it make that slot?)
By Day 10, I discovered that the most excellent filler was peanut butter.
Peanut butter and celery.
My God, I felt righteous! I had the “no calories” of celery mingled with the protein of peanut butter, which would certainly counteract all the fat included.
Imagine how discouraged I was, after a week, to realize that I had gained weight on celery and peanut butter.
Celery is a trickster. It offers great promise, but has no ability to fulfill unless it brings along its blubbery friends.
Thank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) — J.R. Practix