Let’s set the scene, shall we? Spring break is quickly approaching, and you’ve been too busy hibernating from the from the winter winds to trek through the snow allllllll the way up to the gym. Your New Year’s resolution to eat more kale failed as soon as you realized you couldn’t choke down its weird, pointy texture.
There’s only one week left until your trip to Mexico/Key West/Puerto Rico/Myrtle Beach. You begrudgingly decide you must stoop to your last resort to help you get into “summer shape” during the dead of winter — crash dieting.
Unfortunately, the mood swings, cravings, and general misery of your new lifestyle were unforeseen. Kanye West is here to help us illustrate everything bound to happen while crash dieting before spring break.
Headaches from sugar withdrawal start to kick in.
Maybe taking your daily coffee with four sugars for the past three years was a bad idea.
You smell your roommate baking… what is that… banana bread?
She knows that’s your favorite.
Your friends start to notice how irritable you’ve become.
Whatever. You have spinach to comfort you now.
It’s only day 2, and the thought of forcing more vegetables down your throat is making you emotional.
You feel ill after hearing the word “zucchini.”
You overhear a classmate describing last weekend’s amazing brunch in great detail.
You watch your waitress deliver massive, juicy burgers to another table.
Your house salad with no dressing, croutons, or bacon bits will probably taste just as good, right?
The “breakfast all day” sign on the McDonald’s door has you reevaluating your choices.
Eggs are healthy, yeah?
Three separate people invite you out for happy hour drinks and appetizers, and you’ve had it.
That sugary cocktail could be your downfall.
You find a moment of joy before remembering how miserable you are with your flavorless life.
Smiles are few and far between these days.
Your friends comment on how healthy you eat.
They must not know the real you.
Someone asks if you want to split some nachos.
As if you hadn’t already been drooling all over the order next to you.
And then you remember you’ve temporarily sworn off cheese.
Just keep eating your lettuce leaf.
You can’t stop envisioning bae as a slice of pizza.
She ain’t no you, pepperoni.
You catch yourself serenading the half-eaten Ben and Jerry’s carton in the freezer.
Break ups are hard, we get it.
You have to reassure yourself that it’s okay after slipping up and eating the ice cream that was taunting you.
So worth it.
You finally realize crash diets are dumb, and you’re gonna look great in your bathing suit no matter what.
Freedom tastes like cheese.
Spring break arrives, and all thoughts of dieting disappear.