One fine morning, I woke up and decided to love and accept myself just the way I am.  It was one of the worst decisions I ever made in my life.

I loved myself through long days of eating junk food and watching TV, until I became overweight and unhealthy.  I was too lazy to work out–well, what of it?  I was the type who liked to spend her day on the couch, and I accepted myself that way.  I accepted my unemployed self, too–not all of us are a good fit for a regular job, after all.  And who was I to force my special inner child to do things it didn’t want to do?  Anyway, I was going to be a writer.  Never mind that I wasn’t writing anything, forever waiting for inspiration to strike.  Truth is, I wasn’t doing a goddamn thing except mooching off my very patient family.  But to admit this would have meant being critical of myself.  And criticizing yourself was bad and mean.

So I loved myself right into sloppiness and mediocrity and low expectations.  And one day, I realized I didn’t like myself anymore.  And it was freeing.  I looked at my existence and thought “Um…I’m kind of a loser.”  It felt great to say this out loud.  Now that I was no longer delusional about who I was, I could start to work on my life and make it better.

I’ve come a long way since then, but I make sure to remind myself of that time once in a while, when it seems like my standards may be slipping again.  Not to get all New Age cheesy about it, but the Universe gave me a learning experience about just how pathetic I’m capable of being.  I have learned and I’ve moved on, but I will still say, in my best Grumpy Cat voice: “I don’t love myself…GOOD.”

The people of New York have had a mixed bag response to Mayor Michael Bloomberg’s tenure now that he’s transitioned back into civilian life.  On the one hand, a recent Quinnipiac poll shows that 64% of New Yorkers think Mayor Bloomberg was a success.  However, 57% of the city’s residents also think Bloomberg’s ban on large sodas should not be continued.

This confirms something we already know about ourselves as Americans.  You can be a friend of the rich like Bloomberg or try to redistribute wealth like de Blasio, but for the love of God, let us be fat.  We’re already being used and abused like we’re in a dysfunctional marriage, so at least let us have our super sized soft drinks.  I’m no exception to this.  I’m far from obese, but my right to consume sweets and chips is the reward I get for sacrificing most of my life to my corporate job.  So, while I’ve handed almost everything else over to those in power–woe to the person who dares touch my snacks.  This is about freedom, after all!  Well, my freedom to overeat, anyway.