Diet Jokes: My Hilarious Struggle (and Yours?)
I don’t know who invented the word diet, but I’m convinced it’s short for Did I Eat That? Because honestly, that’s all I do when I’m on one—wander into the kitchen, stare at the fridge, and ask myself questions about food like it’s a crime scene investigation.
Every January I tell myself, This is it. New year, new me. By February, it’s more like, New year, same stretchy pants. I’ve tried them all: keto, paleo, intermittent fasting. You know what worked best? See-food diet. I see food, and I eat it.
Why do all the “healthy” snacks taste like cardboard with a splash of sadness? I’ll be munching on a rice cake thinking, Yep, this tastes exactly like regret. And don’t even get me started on portion sizes. A “serving” of almonds is apparently eight. EIGHT. Meanwhile, I eat eight just trying to decide if I even like almonds.
My husband is no help. He’ll say, “Babe, you don’t need a diet—you’re beautiful the way you are.” Which is sweet… until I notice he’s on the couch with a pizza, not sharing. That’s when love meets betrayal.
And gyms? Don’t even get me started. Walking into a gym feels like I’m entering an alien spaceship. Everyone knows what they’re doing, lifting weights like they’re starring in an action movie. Meanwhile, I’m in the corner, trying to figure out how to work the treadmill without launching myself into another dimension.
But you know what? At the end of the day, diets are universal comedy. Because no matter what plan we’re on, there’s always that moment when we trade kale for cake and swear we’ll “start again Monday.”
So, cheers to us—the dreamers, the triers, the snackers. Because if laughter burns calories, I think we’re all doing just fine.
