Battered and Fried: My unhealthy relationship with fried chicken

Yesterday, I ate fried chicken like I never had it in my life. Piece after crispy piece covered in hot sauce. It was like my tastebuds were doing a happy dance. But what ensued afterwards, people never talk about. The indigestion, the guilt, the sluggishness. I realized I am too old to be eating like the food is going to disappear into thin air. 

I have always had an unhealthy relationship with food. Ever since I was a child. Back in the day, I lived right across the street from the Uptown Corner store. And on the days my parents didn't have time to cook or I didn't want to eat what they cooked, I would scrape together money from the coin jar (or use my allowance money I earned for baby sitting my brothers) and waltz my happy behind right over to the corner store to purchase my choice of junk food. 

Oatmeal pies, zebra cakes, sour cream and onion chips, Swedish fish, peanut chews, now and laters, Mystic juice, C&C sodas. But the real gem of the bodega was the grill area. Hands down best cheesesteaks in town. There was a Mexican man who used to work the grill, and he would add a little extra flavor,grease, and love on those cheesesteaks. And don't get me started on the french fries, with salt pepper and ketchup, it was a little piece of heaven. 

Back then, I could eat as much as I wanted and worry about the consequences later, because I used to ride my bike everyday and walk around the neighborhood with my friends. 

But now I'm an adult. And the things I eat matter. And it's less about appearance because I love my adult curves and more about knowing my arteries are clogging up more and more with each bite. So today, I am making a vow to try and do better. To make an attempt to care more about the things I put in my body. To learn to say no to foods I don't need and yes to working out and eating healthy. I have obviously made this vow before and it wasn't successful. But now I blogged about it , and y'all are watching so now I gotta follow through.