Why We're All Crabby

I’ve heard of the winter blues, but it’s not even February yet. By the way things are going, everyone will be suicidal by next month.

You know what’s doing it? All those diet articles. During the most depressing time of the year, doctor after doctor telling us we’ve got to brave it without chocolate.

Oh, pardon me. The new thinking is that you shouldn’t deprive yourself of the foods you crave, but enjoy them…(here’s the catch) in moderation. Give me a break. What’s the sense in a half cup of Chunky Monkey? You get further depressed having to put the carton back and then it keeps you up all night calling your name from the refrigerator.

And to further add to your joy, they tell you that in months known for cold, damp, snow and ice, you’ve got to “get out and exercise.”

The answer to this dilemma: Join a gym! (They put the exclamation point as if punctuation will make this more palatable.) Don’t they know the only people going to gyms are the people who don’t need to be there? We out-of-shape people know better than to go near a gym. Exercise in public? That’s called high school gym class. No one liked high school gym class except the sadistic gym teachers.

The other option is to buy one of those expensive exercise machines, like a treadmill or a Bowflex or a Nordic Track. We have a treadmill here in the Linguini household and it’s used by Heir 2 on a regular basis, proving what I said in the previous paragraph: he is the one who needs it least.

And I can’t help but think about all that wasted energy.

Let’s face it. I do 7 billion loads of laundry a week. My washer and dryer are in the basement with the snakes and snarling wildebeest, who must be fought off with pointy sticks and much jumping around. Our bedrooms are on the second floor. (While the Heirs think that they do all the laundry, what they do, in fact, is place five loads a week in the washer or dryer. To them, laundry just flies out of the hamper and sorts itself.) I sweep and vacuum up 86.4 million tons of dog hair per day. I pick up 4,379 socks from obscure places throughout the house per day.

Why doesn’t any of this count? I feel like I’m working out.

But, NO! “A sustained elevated heart rate for at least 20 minutes” is what constitutes a workout. This is the one fitness fact I can think of that is actually cited in more than one recent article.

All the other facts contradict each other.

Drink wine, it’s good for your heart. Don’t drink wine if you’re a woman because it increases the chance of breast cancer.

Eat yogurt to lose weight. Dairy products pack on the pounds.

Drink 450 gallons of water a day. Drink water only when you’re thirsty. It doesn’t matter how much water you drink as long as you don’t eat white bread or white rice. But eat more grains. And BEANS. Eat lots of beans.

And soy. Eat soy in everything, BUT NOT IF YOU’RE A MAN! It causes prostate cancer if you’re a man.

So have a nice glass of wine, but only if you’re a man or a woman who would rather die of cancer rather than a heart attack.

And keep and eye on your BMI. Oops! Scratch that. Latest is BMI figures do not reflect fitness levels.

Oh yes they do, for most people.

Oh, no they don’t for some.

Uh-huh.

Uh-uh.

Forget heart disease and diabetes. I’ve discovered a new disease (for which I will require mass quantities of research funding from the federal government). Contradictory Medical Research Stress Syndrome can lead to mental confusion and a homicidal tendency toward any in the medical profession.

And the winter blues.