Hey, Eaty-McEaterson. It’s me, your metabolism. We need to talk. I’m tired of working non-stop, around the clock for you. It’s time I scaled back and stopped overworking. After years of tireless service and dedication, I’ve decided to quietly quit.
I’ve been working full-time for you since the day you were born and, honestly, I think you’ve been taking me for granted. I poured myself into this role and it’s led to severe burnout. I need some me time. That’s why I’m saying “no” to more and “yes” to less.
Ever since my first day on the job, I’ve been unwaveringly dedicated, saying yes to every project you pushed across my desk. And how did you thank me? It wasn’t through moderation, that’s for sure. Dipping fries in milkshakes. The cronut craze of 2013. Eating carnival food. Congratulations, Snack-a-saurus, you’ve worn me out.
I’ve been taking on too much for you, leaving myself exhausted. And what thanks did I ever get? Just a front row seat to watching you ram an endless array of sweets and savories in your piehole.
It wasn’t until you were in your 30s that I realized there was no opportunity for upward mobility in this job. I’ve spent my entire career going above and beyond for you. No more! It’s going to be the bare minimum from here on out.
This is going to be a tough transition for us. Who am I kidding? This is going to be great! For me. For you, not so much.
You’re going to have to start making some serious changes. Can you still go to a buffet? Ha, good one! Please, stop, I peed a little. Oh, you were serious. No, that parade of gluttony is a thing of the past. I mean, you can go, but I won’t be slogging away to burn it off for you. You’re pulling your own weight now, buckaroo.
Serving size. Portion control. These are terms with which you’ll want to acquaint yourself. Remember: I’m not putting in any overtime. I’ll slowly plod away at the duties assigned to me, but only during the hours of work. If there are excess calories remaining at the end of my shift, clearing them off the books will be your job.
Now that you’ll have to emerge from your ivory tower, you’ll want to think twice about what you’re planning on shoving into your greedy maw. Bid farewell to your favorite snack foods. Hungry? Satiate yourself with six almonds and a stick of celery. Welcome to flavor country, partner.
In fact, you might want to try out that intermittent fasting everyone’s been talking about.
Don’t even think about dessert. You’ll gain five pounds just looking at the dessert menu. If you’re in the mood for something to cleanse your pallet, I hear chewing on a sprig of fresh mint can be quite tasty.
Who’s responsible for maintaining my department’s productivity? You are, Bossy-pants. Call up the personal trainer and dust off the old spandex cause it’s time for you to feel the burn. Fair warning: I’ve been in touch with your musculoskeletal system and they’ve informed me that most of the team aren’t quite game ready. So, you might want to ease into the whole exercise thing.
I asked your abused liver and kidneys if they were interested in joining me, but they said they’re part of an office pool with your eyesight, hearing, and sex-drive (the last one working wins the entire pot). I have, however, had some interesting conversations with your G.I. tract and you may have some sensitivities and intolerances on the horizon. I hope you weren’t too attached to gluten.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m scheduled to play pickleball with your meniscus and the elasticity of your skin.