Photo by Niklas Rhose
It’s confession time. I have an issue. I didn’t think it was a big deal but it turns out; it actually is.
I’m an addict you see. On many levels. I’m addicted to a lot of things ranging from the usual (reality television and makeover scenes in movies such as Miss Congeniality) to the unusual (i used to eat two minute noodles with mayonnaise. A lot. #sorrynotsorry )
But this new addiction is -and it pains me to say it as it feels so terribly cliche – burgers.
Now I’ve been ‘vegetarian’ for probably over a year now. And I use that term loosely. For me, as much as I’d like to pretend it’s for ethical reasons and I don’t eat meat because I’m a really good person, it’s not. It’s because I’m fussy and I don’t like the texture or taste. In saying that I don’t like to be strict with my diet (obviously because I’m now addicted to burgers) so If I’m ever really in the mood for some meat, I’ll damn well eat it.
So a few weeks back (five to be precise), I’d been feeling pretty lousy (turns out I actually was legitimately sick and my body was fighting some sort of infection #oversharersanonymous) and was really, really in the mood for a good beef burger. I convinced the family to take me to grill’d. If you don’t have a Grill’d in your country then let me give you some advice: move to Australia because we have Grill’d. It’s one of the best burger joints I’ve ever experienced.
I really stuffed my face that day and boy was it wonderful.
The following week, we stumbled across an american diner in the city so of course me and the family had to sample their burgers which was great for me as I was still in the mood for some meat (must have been the crazy girl hormones!).
Feeling like a bad vegetarian, I promised myself that I wouldn’t have another burger unless my body really needed the protein.
It turns out it needed the protein the next weekend during my family Garage Sale. When my cousins came over bearing burgers – I simply couldn’t resist.
And again, the next week (yes, I’m sure you’re sensing the trend), when I wasn’t even in the mood for a burger (I swear on my dog’s life) my parents decided that they wanted a burger. Therefore, I had another.
Now if you’re doing the maths like me, thats four burgers in four weeks. Vegetarian Number One to Liz.
I still didn’t really think it was an issue until my friends started commenting. Every Monday they would ask what I did on the weekend and i could practically feel their eyes piercing my soul with judgement. “Another burger Liz? Did you really need another?”. No. Of course I didn’t need another. But I didn’t regret it.
Now, most jokes between my friends revolve around me and burgers. We recently went to the cinema and I had texted a friend for the location. She replied “It’s right next to a burger shop, just follow your nose.” It’s cruel. True- but cruel.
The cravings come at all kinds of hours. They’re so bad. I feel like this is exactly how pregnant ladies feel. In fact, if I continue this many burgers, people will probably just assume I am pregnant and not judge me. It’s a win – win really.
I don’t know anyone with a food addiction this bad, except perhaps my Significant Other back home who has decided it’s perfectly okay to eat an entire tub of Ben and Jerry’s on your own every Sunday night. But at least when I message him the confession of having eaten yet another burger, I don’t get judged. I just get a photo of him and his dog eating Ben and Jerry’s. Again. Not that I’m judging. I am not a pot. Nor is he a kettle.
Im trying to fight it, I really am. But if you don’t hear from me in the next few weeks it’s because I’ve slipped into a burger coma. And in that case you should send help immediately via the nearest burger shop.
Help a vegetarian out.