I've made it to Sunday morning.

Holiday weekends are hard...but I've made it through.

Tomorrow it's back to work.
Which is a whole different ballgame:
the getting up early, the rushing around, the madness of being part of a great newsroom,
the utter sadness of some of the stories we will be covering.

But I'm planning to continue my quiet little "dance with discipline."
And hopefully, I'll land on my feet.

Finding My Own Way.

My friend says,
"Oh good! I see you followed the Michael Winner Diet - eat what you like, but eat less. (Could have had a smidgin of pumpkin pie). Now you can give up Weightwatchers."

Good advice. For someone who's normal.
I don't know who Michael Winner is, and it's obvious he doesn't know me.
I cannot have a smidgin of pumpkin pie.
I cannot have a spoonful of ice cream.
I cannot have three potato chips, or five peanuts.
And I cannot have a couple of sips of beer.
I wish I could, but I can't.


I don't have self control.
I am taking BABY STEPS right now to LEARN IT.

I am like an alcoholic.
There is the alcoholic who says "I can have one beer."
He'd say, "One beer won't hurt."
But it did.
And it does.

And so it goes.
For me.


I had another good day yesterday.
My husband took my sons to Indiana to visit Grampa and Gramma.
I stayed home with the dogs and watched several Andy Hardy movies on Turner Classic TV.
(It was incredibly FUN!)

Today I have much housework to do before the guys get home.
But I feel postive, and hopeful, and confident.
(shaky confident!)

I will not even eat a smidgen of that pumpkin pie.
I can't.

I love pumpkin pie.

Ok.
Here it is the day after Thanksgiving, and I'm doing ok on the diet thing.
(whew!)
I ate with my family yesterday, I DID have turkey and some of the other stuff...but not very much.
And I passed up the pumpkin pie completely.

Did I mention that I love pumpkin pie?

Dammit, I HATE having to use self control!
It's just not my strong suit.
Especially when I'm sitting near my two sons who basically SHOVEL their food in by the truckload...and neither of them has an OUNCE of fat on them.


But that is THEM, it's not me.
(sigh)

They are not 40-plus pounds overweight.
They are not 53 going on 54 years old.
They are not wearing clothes that are getting tight on them.
They are not facing my Weight Watchers instructor next Thursday evening.

And so, my little adventure continues here.
Onward and Upward.
And hopefully, DOWNWARD.


I love pumpkin pie.

Stitches


Now I know why people have stomach surgery to lose weight.

It's a sure thing.

You WILL lose buckets of weight.

And you'll lose it quickly.

And you won't be hungry.

I am not losing weight.

I am hungry.

And I'm depressed.

I'm mad at myself.


I have three good days, and then two horrible days.

All of the progress I made during those three good days has been wiped out.

Failure.

Again and again.

Forever again.

What is the matter with me.

Why can't I beat this devil inside.

What's eating me?

What makes me eat?

I feel horrible.