Restaurants

Restaurants, wake up and get a fucking clue.

It is NOT okay to charge me $11 for a plain chicken breast and dinky spoonful of rice. I could easily make the same thing at home for under $3.
It is NOT okay to charge $15 for a 6 oz piece of fish (tilapia...the salmon was even more expensive) when the 8 oz burger is half the price.
It is NOT okay to ignore my requests to leave the cheese and croutons off my salad and then give me a plate so I can remove the bad stuff myself instead of making me a new salad. Especially when you don't promptly return to take the plate away, giving me the opportunity to eat the delicious homemade croutons I love (and of course I ate every single one of them and now feel as though I let some silly stale pieces of butter-soaked bread break my strong resolve--which is exactly what happened.)
It is NOT okay to not have a healthy option on your menu that isn't a salad (which, given the bleu cheese, eggs, bacon, croutons, and high-fat dressing, isn't even a healthy option.)
It is NOT okay to make me feel like a pain in the ass for requesting healthier options instead of french fries or gloppy potato salad.
It is NOT okay to not make an effort to please your customers, to leave them feeling depressed, bad about themselves, and hugely disappointed in this world that seems to constantly ridicule and discourage fat people--especially when they're working like hell to not be fat people anymore.

And even though I know I'm right, there's still a little voice inside my head that says, "Tracy, it's just food."

I am an emotional eater. After years of denying it, there it is.

It infuriates me to know that what I really wanted for dinner I will probably never be allowed to eat again. It saddens me to realize this particular restaurant is just another one I will have to cross of my list. It aggravates me to know that even when I do allow myself to indulge, all I can think about is how bad the calories are and how much I shouldn't be eating whatever it is I am eating. It brings me to tears to watch my mom eat a delicious hamburger and homemade potato chips while I eat yet another boring chicken breast and salad.

And yet, all it is is ONE meal. ONE out of the THOUSANDS of meals I will eat in my lifetime. No need for emotional attachment, yet it is completely there and not willing to let go.

I am tired and need to sleep. Maybe more on this tomorrow.