I do not, for the life of me, understand why people lie about stupid things. In my little corner of the office, I get to see all sorts of people who tell little white lies about their glasses. "I don't know how they got that way, I just set them on the nightstand before bed, and when I woke up, they were all mangled!" Blasted nightstand gobblins are at it again. And today, the familiar, "I got hit by a box and they got all bent up." I have put out a bulleton to be on the lookout for vicious boxes that take great delight in trashing the eyewear of unsuspecting and innocent victims. Green Bay is on high alert.
Really people? I know it was either the right cheek or the left that smashed your glasses while you carelessly left them where they don't belong. I am optician, yes, but I am also a future psychologist, and I know what you did to your glasses. (Gasp!) And while your secret is safe with me, I can tell you with certainty, that you cannot see from that part of your body. And lucky for the lot of you, I am an expert at fixing butt-smashed glasses to look nearly brand new, and I won't even laugh at you. At least not while you're in my store.
But these are the little lies we all tell at some point, hoping that it will cover up something we are embarassed about. "My large ass smashed my glasses" is, while entirely truthful, a little unsettling for all of us, therein we create the ferocious "box" or nightstand mystery, or my favorite is the blaming it on the grandkids or the dog.
At any rate, we are imperfect creatures, and telling a fib is fairly natural for most of us. It is a defense mechanism, a slight escape from an uncomfortable situation that we don't want others to know we are dealing with. The problem comes when we start to lie to ourselves. And the complicated part is deciding what is what.
I have been quasi-committed to my health as of late. Yesterday's awesome inspiration by way of looking at before and after photos on an infomercial was short-lived and I started this morning off with a heaping spoonful of Nutella. Not on wheat bread like they suggest, but straight out of the bottle. Why? Because it was there and looked tastey. But it's made with hazelnuts and skim milk, I told myself. Then I looked at the nutrition label. First ingredient, sugar, then palm oil. Good times! I didn't lie to myself, I didn't think it through, I just didn't even try to talk myself out of it. I acted with the reckless abandon of a skinny person. And to think of myself as a skinny person is a huge lie. When I started this journey, I didn't struggle with food because I was so commited to the final goal that it was all I cared about. Somewhere along the line, I started letting little things creep in, and create alternate universes for me. But I knew that this journey would not be without obstacles and challenges. I just need to calculate a way to overcome them. And for me to think I don't care about my health or about getting to my goal is also a lie, but having to face that truth means I have to be accountable for my actions. It is so much easier to stay on track when I am too broke to buy junk food or have it in the house (the Nutella was for the kids, you see), but I can't use that as an excuse.
I am so looking forward to the weekend, to relax, put this odd chaotic week behind me, and possibly move forward with my 5K training. Of course, I could be fibbing, but that is between me and the nightstand gobblins.
Happy Thursday loyal readers.