The Flo Bloat

Store was out of bread but not all these other … essentials…

What is this world that I live in that I feel like I’ve actually gained weight after riding out a hurricane?

Mind you, the house is fine, except for a little water in the basement and a yard that is chewed up by fallen branches. But let’s be real, we are not, nor have we ever been, nor will we ever be, lawn people.

I didn’t exactly hoard anything from the store before the storm. I was out of a lot of things, so I just bought what I thought we might run out of in case I couldn’t drive down our street. Hurricane Florence hit right around the time that I would have been getting my bi-monthly grocery haul anyway.

OK, I maybe hoarded one thing. I got an extra two bags of chickpea flour. But nobody in my county or on the far east coast of my state whose house is under water right now is asking for chickpea flour. Still, it’s a sickness. I love the stuff.

I bought all this flour with the intention of sticking to my WOE (way of eating) while stuck inside during the storm. Such a cute idea, isn’t it?

Oh, I did make myself a paleo meal here and there: eggs, greens, crunchy vegetables, lots of olive oil, seeds.

But what I also ate was this:

Veggie straws


Homemade wheat bread

Peanut butter

Chocolate from my children’s piñata candy stash

Haagen Dasz ice cream

Halo Top ice cream

Shall I go on?

Again I ask, what is this world that I live in, in which my house is still standing, my trees are still standing, my sump pump never stopped working and in which I actually gained weight?

I’ll tell you what world this is not. This is not post-hurricane Haiti or Puerto Rico.

It’s obscene, really.

I point a lot of fingers at people who hoard bottled water when there is plenty of tap water to be had for free from their kitchen faucets. (Well mostly free — we do pay utility bills for that water). But in reality, there are plenty of fingers pointed back at me by about 80 percent of the world’s population.

The hurricane really hit home how much we have. How much space, how much food, how much access to reliable power and clean water, how much access to good neighbors and content with the outside world should something bad happen. A reliable police force and fire department and emergency services.

It’s unreal how spoiled we are.

My own fella, texted me yesterday to say that he got so used to drinking cold brew at home, that the coffee at work tastes terrible to him. The free coffee. At his job. At the company that provides us health care, at which he has worked for more than 10 years now.

I still have a fridge FULL of mason jars containing emergency tap water. And what do you think I’m going to do with it?

When I pour it down the drain, am I any better than people who hoarded bottled water? Well, I never thought I was better than anyone else to begin with, but you get my point.

To me, the ultimate guarantee of diet failure is proclaiming on the internet that you are going on a diet.

In response, my still, small voice likes to quote the sparkling Anne Lamott: “That’s nice, dear. And how much weight are you planning on gaining this time around?”

Yes, my still, small voice sounds like Anne Lamott. And also sometimes Brene Brown. And Lily Tomlin in “Nine to Five.” It’s just the way it is. There are worse voices to hear in your head.

BUT DESPITE all of those detractors, and despite all the demands on my time that basically guarantee I’m going to fail, I’m starting over tomorrow. Because, when I actually follow “dirty” paleo, as I call it, I feel  better, physically and mentally.

I’m not sure yet if I’m going to give you week-by-week weigh ins, measurements, and the like. As you can guess, that is extremely uncomfortable for me.

But I will post progress every week, and I’ll also share recipes and ideas.

Because even though putting it all out there is uncomfortable, it’s even more uncomfortable in the long run is not doing the right thing.






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