I’m back, not from Paris, but from Reno. My father has been gravely ill and I’ve been spending oodles of time up there. As a consequence I’ve cancelled Paris.

I feel selfish for saying this, and I suppose it is selfish in practice, but I find Reno a hard place to be. From a health perspective, it’s just plain bad for me. If ever there was a place where processed carbohydrates could be a major food group, Reno is it. Everytime I go I gain weight. This up and down has been going on for weeks since my Dad got really sick. And I’m sick of it.

Somebody wrote in and suggested that I just quit trying because I hate it. The truth is, though, that I don’t hate dieting. What I hate is not seeing immediate results. I know that’s irrational. Nothing is immediate when it comes to lifestyle changes. As I’ve mentioned elsewhere, I have the slow-going metabolism of a earthworm. So I hate the fact that all I have to do is eat a Cheeto and the pounds pile back on. Though I’ve come to like healthy food and honestly enjoy cooking it too, I still stumble and wish that the consequences weren’t quite so measurable.

So I don’t want to quit. I realized that upon spending time with my Dad in the nursing home. While he is seriously ill and it’s not his fault, he’s also not done a thing over the last eight years to help his health in the least. Now he’s basically immobile. He refuses therapy. He’s given up. I don’t want to. I want to be healthy.