So I’ve been trying to lose weight. What else is new. Bad enough there are five birthdays in February to celebrate…mine included, but Valentine’s Day too? February sucks for losing weight. And once you’ve opened the door to a piece of cake, the others want to enter. Bring on the cupcakes, chocolates, and all things sweet & sugary.
Yesterday, Valentine’s Day, my husband gave me a big box of chocolates and gorgeous roses. He’s a traditional sort of fella, and while I love that he wanted me to feel loved in a traditional sort of way, I can’t help but loathe him, as I sat with that stupid heart shaped box on my lap, fooling myself into thinking that I would just have one. I didn’t just have one. Or three.
And it didn’t stop there. Today I found myself eating Cheese Wiz…on my finger. Direct. I did however, feel guilty, and had a banana…
with ice cream and hot fudge.
What is happening to me? I can feel my double chin growing as I type this. It’s not pretty people. Not even a little.
I feel like I’m living that scene in The Godfather…”every time I think I’m out, they pull me back in!” Yes, chocolate…I’m talking to you! And you too ice cream. Damn your yummy, icy deliciousness.
I’ve gone months resisting those temptresses – I lost 15 lbs. FIFTEEN. I’ve literally been avoiding my doctor, so she won’t have to say, “Holy shit – what happened since I saw you?”
February happened, doctor. February!