The NYC Girl’s Diet
My eating habits suck. I have apples, tofu and old soy milk in my refrigerator. Most days, I’m just hoping the Brita is full. It’s not easy being an NYC girl, let me tell you. I get take-out sometimes, but more often I go out to eat because I’m never home. Since I’ve moved into my own place I’ve found my eating habits are even more deplorable. This also ties in with the fact that it’s Q4 which is historically what I refer to as “crazy quarter” at work, so I’m running around like a lunatic. I’ve become what I call “accidentally anorexic” some days. It’s a combination of forgetting to eat coupled with being too lazy to go and get food along with preferring to consume a liquid dinner.
I recently discovered I’m getting quite a few hits to this little blog (who knew?) and I’m guessing you all don’t live in this glorious city and might be wondering about the life one lives here. So let’s start with a little walk-through of the diet any true NYC girl is likely to be following (this is assuming she’s actually consuming anything, which can’t be guaranteed).
Breakfast (Monday – Friday)
- Starbucks. Not coffee, mind you, but Starbucks. The true NYC girl doesn’t drink coffee. She drinks venti half-caf sugar free soy (insert holiday themed beverage) lattes. She’s due at work at 10am so she’s probably waiting in line, iPhone in hand, nursing a slight hangover at 9:57. She might add Advil to her breakfast of champions as well, depending on her morning meeting schedule.
Breakfast (Saturday – Sunday)
- The betchy brunch – New York City girls don’t eat breakfast on the weekends. They go to brunch. The destination is likely chosen more for how long they’ll refill your mimosa glass than for menu selections. As long as that veggie omelet can be made with egg whites and the toast comes dry, she’s happy.
- The OMG I’m so hungover meal – Let’s be honest, the MO of an NYC girl is hitting the town. And sometimes, the town hits back. Hard. Those mornings, nothing but a greasy meal will help. This is when you go, looking like a hot mess, to the nearest diner. You get butter on your toast. You don’t sub your homefries for fruit. And you drink 15 Diet Cokes.
Lunch (Monday – Friday)
- FUCK IT’S ALREADY 4 O’CLOCK. DID I EAT TODAY? OH MY GOD WHAT TIME IS MY NEXT CALL? Forget it, I’ll eat later
Lunch (Saturday – Sunday)
Dinner (Monday – Friday)
- Just heading home? Lean cuisine from the microwave or delivery from Grub Hub
- Going out with friends? Lychee martini (if you want something sweet), dirty martini 3 olives (if you want something salty)
- Gossip sesh with your bestie? Sushi, tapas or anything else you can share and quickly rack up an expensive bill
- Date? The most expensive thing on the menu, obvs
Dinner (Saturday – Sunday)
- Saturday night – something from the microwave with carbs so you don’t puke later.
- Sunday night – TAKE OUT. For the love of god, I’m willing to give the delivery guy my spare key so I don’t have to get off the couch when my meal arrives. Sundays are a day for no effort (and, in my world, #nopants). Occasionally chewing is too much effort, in which case you just watch the Food Network and nap on the couch until it’s an acceptable time to officially go to bed.
See, it’s not easy being an NYC girl sometimes. Although, if we keep this diet, we never have to worry about washing dishes or cleaning the kitchen, and I’m okay with that.