I love Ranch dressing. I have no idea what’s in it¹, but it’s delicious. For all my bitching about things in this world (i.e. heels, idiots, and fake-and-bakes, to name a few), God really pulled through with this ranch stuff. Unfortunately for me, it negates the healthiness of having a salad for lunch.
Yes, sports fans. I am having a salad for lunch. This is definitely not my usual fare. I am the carnivorous type. It’s not a real meal unless I have some sort of dead animal adorning my plate paired with some sort of carbohydrate. In many cases, I will have multiple sources of carbs. I regularly eat potatoes and rice within the same meal. Delicious!
Unfortunately for me, I no longer have the fast metabolism of my teenage years. Over the past four years, my weight has been slowly creeping upwards. This angers me because I refuse to buy bigger pants. I still remember the days of size 0 jeans. Now, I’m up to a size 4. I’m not saying that a size 4 qualifies as fat, but having to buy a whole new set of clothes to accommodate excess fat would suck.² Hence, my decision to have a salad for lunch was wrought. Despite this seemingly healthy decision, I slathered heaps upon heaps of ranch dressing on the unsuspecting pile of vegetables, which subsequently drowned amidst an ocean of lipids.
Ranch dressing is worth being fat for.
¹ Pre-Wikipedia entry, that is.
² And not in a good way.