stress eating

day twenty-five: the great mayo meltdown ’16

Posted on by thedingismything

Got a little bit of bad news yesterday. Both of the offers we submitted for houses last week were rejected. Seriously, who are these people making all-cash offers over asking price? How are we supposed to compete with that? Who has half a million dollars in cash just lying around anyway? And if you do, why the hell would you want to live in Reseda, of all places?

<<deep breath>>

As you might infer, I’m a little disappointed. But, I also was expecting it, so it wasn’t completely devastating. I took the news pretty well, and tried to muster up enthusiasm for going back to square one and checking out the latest on Redfin and Zillow. That lasted about 10 minutes before I was just over it.

I take solace in knowing that it’s not just us who find it difficult (read: impossible) to buy a home in this market. Still, it makes me feel pretty crummy. I’ve had some pretty sharp peaks and valleys when it comes to my self-worth and self-confidence over the years. I can honestly say that nothing has made me feel as much of a miserable failure in life as this home-buying process has.

When I finally left the office, I had one of those commutes where every asshole on the 5 freeway decided it was ok to cut me off. I hit every single red light. I had to stop at the store, and a shithead stole my parking space as I was about to pull in to it. Got in the shortest line behind the s-l-o-w-e-s-t old lady who, of course, paid in cash – with exact change.

You can imagine I’m reaching the end of my rope here.

The Husband said he would handle dinner for us. He was taking a stab at a salmon cakes recipe out of the Whole30 book. The note at the bottom of the page said it paired well with the tartar sauce recipe, made from their basic mayo.

For any newcomers, the Whole30 basic mayo was the first Whole30 recipe I made and it was a smash hit. I was so happy with it. Easy to make, tasted great, saved my lunches for the first 10 days. I haven’t made any since I ran out of my first batch, so while he made the salmon cakes, I took on the mayo so we’d have a nice little sauce on the side.

One egg, one-half teaspoon of mustard powder, one teaspoon of salt and a quarter of a cup of olive oil all went into the standing mixer. I flipped it on, and it started to combine.

And then, it just kinda did nothing.

I seemed to remember it looking a little less liquidy the first time. But oh well. Let’s just keep going.

Started to drizzle in my one cup of olive oil. Little bit at a time. Little bit. Little. Bit.

Only difference was MORE of the liquid. Not thickening. At all.

Do I stop? No! Persevere! Keep going! It will start to emulsify.

Have I mentioned it’s 7:45 p.m. at this point, the salmon cakes are just about ready, and we’re both starving?

Entire cup of olive oil is mixed in. It’s the same consistency. Much more yellow than I remember it looking the first time.

At this point, a person in their right mind might step back and think, “OK, clearly this isn’t working out. You’re hungry and tired and very stressed out. Just stop and enjoy the cakes by themselves.”

I wasn’t in my right mind.

I went back to the recipe and saw the direction that said your egg needed to be at room temperature in order for this to work. Forgot all about that. No wonder. A tip said that if you’re pressed for time (story of my life) you can put the egg in a bowl of hot water for five minutes and then it would work.

Second egg comes out of the fridge and goes into a bowl of hot water. I remove the first failed batch from the mixer and pour it into a mason jar. All I can think about at this point is that a bottle of olive oil costs $15 and I just wasted about $3 worth. I can’t throw this away. I can save this somehow.

I start the second batch. Egg is warmed to room temp, everything else is good to go. I’ve re-read the complete instructions for the recipe about four times. It’s now 8 p.m. and the salmon cakes are out of the oven. The Husband, the most patient man on the Earth, is waiting for me to get this mayo right.

I add the first ingredients. It looks slightly thicker this time. I’m hopeful.

I crank the mixer up to top speed and begin to slowly drizzle in the olive oil.

Same. Exact. Results.

Not thickening. Not getting lighter in color. Not working. Not happening.

And I start losing my mind.

There is ugly crying, and then there is what unfolded for me last night.

My face got hot, tears welled up in my eyes and streamed down my face. I’ve wasted $6 worth of olive oil, about 45 minutes, made my loving husband wait for mayo that never happened, ruined dinner by crying, and above all, I can’t buy a house.

At that point, realizing that my brain had long stopped working, The Husband literally handed me my plate of three salmon cakes, turned off all the lights in the kitchen and walked me over to sit down and fucking eat. And I cried the entire time.

I think it’s fair to say that our home offer rejections affected me more than I realized. I rode that bus way past Discouraged, past Disillusionment, straight into Crazy Town.

After we ate, I went back and poured the second failed batch into the jar with the first one. It’s in my fridge as we speak. I’m going to find a way to use it if it kills me.

P.S. The salmon cakes came out really good, in case anyone is wondering. And I married the greatest man on the planet.

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Wouldn’t that have just been perfect with a little mayo?

 

Note: This is a re-post from the Tumblr version of this blog. It originally ran on April 21, 2016

day seven: monday morning quarterbacking

Posted on by thedingismything

One week into Whole 30 and I’m surviving.

Just barely.

Seriously, it was an emotionally taxing weekend. The Husband and I are looking at houses, and everyone knows what the home-buying market in the Los Angeles area is like right now. Super competitive and nearly impossible for most middle class dwellers. I don’t know what makes me think we’re any different.

We spent much of the weekend looking at houses, and after falling in love with one adorable home, we spent the rest of the weekend figuring out how to make it work. We were both pretty grumpy. The Husband did some insane amount of pull-ups at his CrossFit gym on Friday and has been in pain ever since. I’ve been stressed out about making my home-ownership dreams come true. We reached a point yesterday afternoon where I turned to him and asked “How about we just call this Whole 30 thing off right now and go get drunk?”

We considered it.

To top it all off, we were invited to our friends’ house for a get-together Sunday afternoon. We were both very worried about eating something off-plan. We even went so far as to bring our own veggie tray and guacamole. Thankfully, our amazing friends were not only aware of our Whole 30 ambitions, but they were sensitive and thoughtful enough to have options we could eat, too. And we were able to relax! And actually enjoy ourselves! For a solid three hours, I didn’t think about how sad I was that I couldn’t open a bottle of wine and/or afford the house of our dreams.

Where I went right this weekend:

I know I’m patting myself on the back here, but I did just about everything right this weekend. I didn’t cheat my Whole 30 guidelines at all, and because of our diet plan we couldn’t go out to a restaurant. We probably saved a ton by eating in all weekend long. Our meals were all super easy and affordable, to boot. More on that, later.

Where I went wrong:

I have to say that planning to do the Whole 30 at a time when my stress levels were already so high was probably not the wisest choice. But it was our choice nonetheless, and we’re stickin’ to it.

Goals for this week:

There was a point yesterday when we were willing to say we did the Whole 6.5 diet. The idea of saying “Good enough,” and going out for pizza and bourbon was tough to resist. There was even a point at our friends’ house when I found my hand – out of force of habit – reach straight for the nacho cheese Doritos. I diverted it to the veggie tray just in time. But, here I am, at Day 7. I made it a week. Just three more to go.

I told myself yesterday that I would eat whole foods like this for the rest of my life, if it meant I could have booze whenever I wanted. With just about every dinner I ate this weekend, I’d find myself thinking about what wine would pair best with it. This led me to two conclusions: A) I might want to re-evaluate my attachment to liquor, and 2) I could eat like this for the rest of my life if it meant I could enjoy booze. That means my mind has started to think of this Whole 30 experiment less as a diet, and more of a lifestyle change. Which is really the point, right?

Breakthroughs, guys. So many breakthroughs.

At risk of this sounding like an AA treatment, my goal for this week is to take things each day at a time. I recognize that I’m carrying a lot of stress in my life right now, which makes the threat of breaking down more and more likely. I might lose my mind f I try to think about meal planning for the next seven days, or how I’m going to get to Day 14 without a Manhattan on the rocks. So today, I’m thinking about tonight. Tonight, I’ll think about tomorrow. Tomorrow, I’ll think about the next day. I’m still food-prepping. I’ve got my pre-cut veggies and fruits all set to go in my fridge. I’ve still got the upper hand there. If only I could have as much control over the rest of my life as I do with my nutrition right now …

Note: This is a re-post from the Tumblr version of this blog. It originally ran on April 4, 2016.

whole30: day three.

Posted on by thedingismything

Today was hard.

Not because I was hungry, or felt like I couldn’t eat anything. Today was hard because it was the first really stressful day I’ve had while on Whole 30. It made me realize just how much I actually stress eat.

Typically on a day like today, after a looong day at work when I was juggling a dozen projects at once, I would reach for a big ol’ bag of chips or ask The Husband if we could go hit up a happy hour somewhere. At the very least we’d open a bottle of wine or go pick up some Menchie’s.

Mmmmmmmmmenchie’s. I miss you so very much.

We hosted a breakfast meeting at our office today, and I had to help set up the food. Coffee, juice, fruit and a tray of bagels and pastries and muffins. Oh my.

Setting it out was no problem; I had just gotten to work and I wasn’t emotionaly drained yet. But by lunch, it was a different story.

The meeting was over and the room had cleared out. I poked my head in the empty room and saw there were still some pastries left on the tray. Ordinarily I would bring the tray downstairs and set it in the office kitchen for everyone to help themselves. Not today. I couldn’t go near it. I knew the temptation was too much. If I came within smelling distance of that sugary buttery carbohydrate goodness, I would have taken a bite.

Instead, I ran from the room and distracted myself until it was time to heat up my lunch. (Thank you, leftover meatballs.) Then I instructed someone else to adios the baked goods so I wouldn’t have to deal with it. Crisis averted.

The one thing that really prevented me from diving face-first into a cinnamon roll-induced shame was the realization that I wasn’t even hungry. But I so desperately wanted to stuff my face. How often do I eat when I’m not hungry??? Apparently, more than I realize.

I’m happy to say the day wasn’t a total wash. By the time I got through traffic and made it home, The Husband had made an amazing dinner for us.

Ladies, let me tell you something. There are few things hotter than a man who knows his way around a kitchen. No wonder I’m emotionally attached to food.

But look at this! Who wouldn’t fall for a guy who makes something look as good as this.

That’s a little Whole 30 chicken cacciatore, which was as delicious as it was easy to make. The Husband said on a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being getting take-out, this recipe is a 3.5. Not too shabby!

P.S. The cute wittle face peeking up in that photo is my cat Boots. He’s a rascal.

Note: This is a re-post from the Tumblr version of this blog. It originally ran on March 31, 2016.