Cheese and the nature of goodbyes

Sometimes you say goodbye to something or someone in your life, and it feels equivalent to trimming your hair. It's a big "good riddance!" to those nasty split ends, your hair is lighter, healthier, and even looks better. You might even say you feel revived, inspired to make other good changes in your life. Those tangled masses were weighing you down and keeping you from your full potential. You don't even know why you held on to them for so long. I recently said a goodbye like this.

On the other hand, some goodbyes are like breaking off the best relationship you ever had because you know you're just not going the same direction in life. You'll always think of them fondly, you'll miss them, you'll wish you could've stayed friends but you know it never would've worked to only see them in that capacity. I am currently undertaking such a goodbye. I've recently subscribed to a fitness program especially for flight crew members, aimed at helping us stay healthy in the midst of crazy hours, lack of sleep, and inconsistent access to healthy food. This program suggests (or more like strongly recommends) cutting out cheese. I don't know about you, but it's hard for me to imagine a life without cheese. I'm experiencing a bit of the grieving process, thinking back on all the good times cheese and I had together (cue slow-motion montage of me looking at a slice of brie with a glass of wine in my hand, me asking for pepperjack at Subway, me putting fresh mozzarella in my pasta, with some kind of cheesy love song as background music. Ha, cheesy love song, that was totally unplanned). Cheese, maybe a few pounds down the road, our timing will be better and we'll be reunited.

Until then, I may end up rebounding with Nutella. Forgot to forbid that, didn't you, Cabincrewfitness.com??