If they only knew what they were doing to themselves.

I’ve been wrestling with a difficult decision. The quandary tugs at my conscience, pulls at my heartstrings, grasps me with guilt, and squeezes my gut. My flesh is weak, and my spirit … isn’t much stronger. But it’s probably time I faced reality.

I think I may have to give up eating.

“But Tim!” you may cry. “You, who have never met a cheeseburger you didn’t like! Who seldom pass on salmon! Who swoon for spaghetti with sausage! Who beg for burritos! Who have moaned for milkshakes! Why are you, of all people, cutting the cable on the Food Network?”

I know. I know. Believe me, I know. This is not a step I take lightly. I have pondered it in my quieter moments (quiet except for the crunch of tortilla chips.) The internal debates I’ve had as I picked miserably at my chicken francaise. The tears I’ve fought back as I’ve chewed on a coney (it’s a Central New York delicacy – look it up.) And yet I see no other way out.

Everything I Eat is Bad For Me

As we all remember from health class, there are four basic food groups: Proteins; fats; carbohydrates; and whiskey. Okay, I added that last one, but I think a strong argument can be made for it. Anyway, virtually everything that falls into any of those categories is unhealthy to consume. To wit:

The body has been known to break carbohydrates down into sugar. According to this article, which must be accurate because I found it on the Internet, sugar will make me:

FatBlindHave a heart attackOldStressed outToothless

These are generally considered to be undesirable characteristics. And sugar is fu–, I mean, freaking everywhere. I thought my bran flakes were good for me, but no — five grams of sugar. My whole wheat bread — sugar! My Greek yogurt — sugar! My one percent low-fat milk — still more sugar! For the love of God, I found out last week that even my Friday morning donuts have sugar!

And that’s not all. I have a large salad every day for lunch at work. Salads have vegetables. Vegetables are carbohydrates. And carbohydrates turn into — sugar! (See above, for those who are having trouble focusing because you are hungry.) My blueberries, bananas, apples, nectarines, red grapes, mushrooms, black olives — they are all part of the carbohydrate cabal. They look innocent when lightly bathed in olive oil, but once down the gullet, they shed their mild-mannered exterior and turn into that fiend sugar.

Clearly carbohydrates are a plot to kill me.

Fats

What if I swear off killer carbs and dive face first into the world of fats? Hamburgers. Cheese. Ice cream. Whole milk. (Dammit. Those last two have sugar.) Sausage. Butter. If it starts off solid but can liquify when heated to certain temperatures, then why not ingest it with gusto?

Well, it seems they want to kill me, too. Fats increase one’s HDL cholesterol (I’m told that’s the bad kind,) and high cholesterol does not bode well for those who want their hearts to continue beating. They also make you, well, fat. Or at least that’s what they’ve done to me. A long glance in the bathroom mirror advises me that I really don’t need any added fats in my diet.

So, if sugar doesn’t do me in, fats will happily take up the slack.

Alternatives Are Fine if You Have No Conscience

That leave protein. The building blocks of muscular cell growth. Lean meats, fish, nuts … the healthy stuff, right? Too bad factory farms torture the animals before prepping them for my plate. And that the human race is over-fishing the oceans. And that almonds use a ton of water in the cultivation process, water that the Western states can scarcely afford.

Sure, I could get protein from plant sources, but as I explained above, protein-bearing vegetables also have carbs, which turn to sugar, which will conspire with fats to kill me. We’re talking lose-lose-lose here.

The Ultimate Solution

If I don’t want to be haunted by the thought of what my consumption is doing to other living creatures and the environment, and I don’t want carbs and fats circling me like a couple of ninjas waiting to send me to the netherworld, the only remaining course is to give up eating. So …

Farewell, pizza with extra pepperoni …

Auf wiedersehen, my beloved chocolate chip pancakes …

Carry on without me, oh cucumbers …

Remember me fondly, dearest fried rice …

Forget me not, french fries, for you will always be close to my not-yet-clogged-up heart …

(I’ll need a moment to compose myself.)

Okay, then. It’s settled. If I want to live and live with myself, I must give up those occasions of sin that make life worth living.

But I’ll be honest: It’s leaving a bad taste in my mouth. One that could be erased by Chinese takeout.

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