Let this day, Tuesday, August 5th, in the year of our Lord 2008, go down in history as a milestone in my recovery from an addiction that had me in its clutches for the better part of my life. Today I took a step—no, an emphatic leap—toward a healthier, stronger PlatKat and brighter tomorrow.
I threw away ice cream.
To be clear, I didn’t just throw away some cake-accompanied vanilla gunk scooped from a jumbo bucket and served en masse. Nor did I toss a the melted remains of a commonplace sundae shared by my enablers.
No, this is truly a breakthrough. Today I discarded the perfectly edible and rather substantial remains of a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Turtle Soup Ice Cream. (For the uninitiated, that’s vanilla ice cream with fudge-covered caramel cashews and a caramel swirl.)
As usual, I wanted an after-dinner fix, despite the fact that the veggie fajitas I’d made were perfectly delicious and satisfying. Although I’ve recently been careful regarding ice cream consumption, QFC was having a sale on my favorite brand (Ben & Jerry’s) and it was clearly my opportunity to buy my drug of choice and use my newfound disgression by enjoying it over a long period of time.
But like so many other occassions, I relapsed. I fed a stomach that was not hungry with ingredients it did not need, and I suffered the consequences.
As I regained mental consciousness this morning, I decided what I must do. It was a harrowing process, but I managed to complete steps 1-6 of the 12 steps to recovery in 30 minutes during my marathon training prescribed morning run.
I accepted that I am powerless against ice cream and that it’s making my life unmanageable. This was evidenced by the burps, farts, and coughs that occurred throughout the night due to mucus from high dairy consumption. I accepted that only God can help me now and asked for his assistance. Then I made a searching and fearless moral inventory of myself and decided that I’m really awesome in every way, except for this pesky addiction to ice cream. At the end of my run, which was also awesome, I yelled, “I eat too much fucking ice cream!”
I’m sure someone heard me. And thus, I was ready for God to remove my shortcomings.
So, I returned home and said, “God, could you remove my shortcomings?”
And His quick reply came (I have Him on speed-dial… in case I ever need to get in touch with Dick Cheney): “Well, I can see you think you’re awesome in every way. Your lack of humility humors me. I’ll smite you for it at some point, but let’s take care of this ice cream problem first.”
“What should I do?” I asked.
“Have you tried throwing it away?” he responded.
“You mean like the carton?”
“Yeah, but keep the ice cream in the carton and throw it all away at once.”
I paused for a moment. Who in their right mind would do this? Then again, this seemingly insane concept was brought to me with such confident nonchalance by none other than GOD. By those credentials alone, it does deserve some thought. Has my life been so altered by this delicious substance that actions regularly performed by other people seem strange to me?
“Are you sure this is okay?” I hesitated.
“I’m a diety!”
“Um…”
“I’m a DIIIIIETY!!”
“But…”
“Suck my diiiiick!! I’M A DIIIIIETY!!!”
His argument was sound.
“Okay, I’ll do it.”
I ran to the kitchen, flung open the freezer, grabbed the offending carton, and stuck it in a bag. I dashed to the trash room, slam-dunked it into the bin, and set forth to begin the first day of the rest of my life, never looking back.
I know it’s only been a few hours, but my life is completely different now and I’m living differently as a result. For instance, I took my daily cup of coffee when I arrived at work this morning instead of waiting until after lunch. I’m also foregoing my tradition of blocking the idiocy around me with the sexy, softcore sounds of Soma FM and taking a (nearly all mope-rock) “music adventure” with the sixtyone.
Yep, things are definitely changing. I’m now entering step 8, in which I’ll make a list of all the people I have harmed and attempt to make ammends. This will take awhile, so get comfortable. I apologized to my travel agent this morning for misunderstanding my traveling companion’s itinerary, so that’s a start.
Oh yeah, I’m also not drinking at all this month so I can focus on my marathon training. Not that it’ll make an impact or anything.