A Wake Up Call

I'm at my naturopath's office. She's awesome, and I really like her. I've gone to her for years and she's helped me through many things in my life.

She knows this about me: I'm a perfectionist, and this holds me back from attempting to do some things, because gosh darn it, if you're not going to do it perfect, what the hell is the point of trying? (No, seriously. I still don't get it).

She also knows I'm currently overweight. She has seen me overweight, and skinny, and overweight, and "normal". And back to overweight.

Doc: What aren't you doing that needs to get done in your life?
Me: Cooking.
Doc: What do you eat?
Me: I eat out. Or stuff from the grocery store that can be microwaved.
Doc: How many days a week are we talking about here?
Me: (slightly sheepish) 6.

My naturopath and I have been through a lot together. I tell her about my BM's, for goodness sakes (if you don't know what BM stands for, you probably don't want to know because you likely don't discuss yours with other people). Not once have I ever said anything that really has shocked her. She's always calm, cool and collected.

Not this time.

I get a bit of a lecture, to say the least, about cooking. I am fine with this, because I need to hear it. She discusses options.

Meal planning - hate it, hate it, hate it. Mainly because I hate going to the grocery store.
Crock pot meals - I've got a freezer full of them, just too lazy to pull them out
Nutritionist to hold me accountable - hmmm. Interesting. This could be a good option.

She introduces me to her nutritionist who is very nice (and skinny). I say, give me a month or two to see what I can do. If I'm still not doing anything, I'll come back.

Welcome to my month or two.