TV Dinners

Tony and I are, as usual, trying to watch what we eat. We're trying something new this month, though - eating meals from a delivery service. The food is all-natural, never frozen, has no preservatives or artificial flavors and lasts for a week in the fridge. All the portions are strictly controlled and we get three meals and two snacks a day, five days a week. (We like to leave the house occasionally, so we chose to have some days off the plan to allow for that.)

It has made life much easier in that I don't have to plan, shop and cook for meals during the week when my workday starts at 8 in the morning and ends at about 7:30 in the evening. I can just hop into the kitchen, plate some food, heat it up and blam! we have a meal. And the food is super tasty, so that makes it easier. (It certainly doesn't taste like a Lean Cuisine, thank God.) The only thing that remains to be seen is how many pounds I'm going to lose. Tony and I were laughing this morning that the weight was going to just drop off. We'll get on the scale in the morning (because we like to torture ourselves and weigh in every day.) and 10 pounds will be magically gone from our bodies. My clothes will start fitting and his will stop. It will be magical. Kind of like a unicorn who knows karate.

The biggest problem with this system is that with portion control, you sometimes get hungry. (Like, four times a day, max.) And that typically happens late at night, especially if you get hungry and eat dinner at 5 and bedtime isn't until 11. Adding to that is the glut (pun intended) of food commercials on TV, most pointedly during my favorite shows, which all revolve around food. (Ramsey's Kitchen Nightmares, Last Restaurant Standing, Biggest Loser, Top Chef, etc.) Last night, with my tummy grumbling, I had to sit through at least 4,000 commercials for Red Lobster, Taco Bell (Who's taking on that Drive-Thru Diet?), Kentucky Fried Chicken (and you know how I feel about that), and every other kind of restaurant you can imagine. The entire time, I was salivating.

It gets better when you DVR something (I like to watch the two-hour Biggest Loser in super-fast-forward, stopping only when someone falls down or they get on the big scale. I can only watch so many sweaty people cry before I become immune to their issues. And I want to swat Jillian Michaels like the tiny gnat she is.) but you still have to deal with the pictures of clam chowder, cake and fried chicken flashing on the screen, tempting you.

I think the only solution is to stop watching TV. Which would also benefit me in the long run. However, the two warmest (read: tolerably warm) rooms in the house both have TVs in them. The rest of the house is an icebox of death. You could hang meat in here, all part of our bill-reduction program. After the December gas bill, we had to turn the thermostat down another five degrees and put on yet another layer of socks and scarves. We both look like that little kid in "A Christmas Story." I'm typing with fingerless gloves right now.

The moral of this story? Don't diet and watch TV. And don't diet, stop watching TV and hang out in an ice-cold house. Go to the gym and sit in the dry sauna for 15 minutes. You'll sweat out the fat AND be warm for a little while. The 55-degree living room will feel refreshing after that. And you'll be so hot you won't want to eat for at least 15 minutes.