Last night my mom told me about a new study that links obesity to inconsistent nocturnal sleep patterns. I then proceeded to not sleep while snacking on a tray of Totinos pizza rolls.

Today in the deli, as I was stuffing another clump of leftover cake in my mouth, it dawned on me that it wasn't yet 3 pm and I had already eaten Chick-Fil-A, a free cookie, a stack of hard salami, a sample of 18 dollar per pound butter, approximately half a log of havarti, colby and cheddar in addition to the incoming mounds of a canceled wedding cake in the break room.

I start to feel physically ill. My coworker offers me an apple slice. I took it like Eve and skimmed Facebook, ironically noting that half my feed is an endless scroll of bathroom mirror selfies of my friends' new bodies.

I insert another slice of cheese into my mouth, sigh and take a 15 second insta story of my hand squeezing a slice of ham. Maybe next week I'll start running or slicing on manual, with both arms.

Two customers later, a tall, dark and healthy man asks for one pound of the smoked turkey. He doesn't own a grocery cart, not even a basket, because his list of organic fruit and string cheese can fit in the palm of his hand. I give the healthy man his one pound of smoked turkey and ask the usual, on auto, Is there anything else I can get for you?

Oh no thank you, but I was wondering, do you work out?

I'm sorry what? Do I work out?

Yeah like do you go to a gym?

I'm sorry what else can I get you?

Like do you have a gym membership?

Haha. I laugh in an awkward manner. Ohh no I just eat a lot of cheese.

He nods politely and reminds me that cheese, like most things, is good for you in moderation. He gives me his card over the counter in exchange for the turkey, revealing that he is a personal trainer. He offers me a free session and places his giant iPhone on the scale, TYPE YOUR NUMBER in my phone, you can do it, you got this! That's right just three more digits!

....Does he mean my weight or my cell? I wonder. This is so demanding. I cant even imagine the severity of the push-up commands as my one arm is only accustomed to lifting in half pound increments. The line grows wider, while I grow fatter. I'm sweating, flustered, and exhausted, so out of shape. My pants feel tighter. My breathing is shortened as my apparent body fat bulges over. What in the deli world just happened!? Do fitness trainers typically look for their clientele while ordering lunchmeat in the delicatessen? I mean eventually I hope to be able to lift more than the usual one pound of thinly sliced turkey, but for now, is this a sign?

I continued to eat cake all shift, however, I'll hold onto that card. Maybe next week.