Today I have had the thought, “I could make a batch of cookies and just eat two!” more than once.
Then I have faced reality. It’s possible I might just eat two today. I might be able to be that good. And I might say I’ll just eat two tomorrow. However, tomorrow–and let’s assume I’m really being good–I will *actually* have two for dessert after lunch, and then after dinner say, “Well, that was two after lunch, but this is dinner, so I can have two now!” And that’s the very best case scenario. The real scenario is that I’d eat fifteen cookies tomorrow. I’d have two or three or five for breakfast. I’d have two or four after lunch. I’d have several for a snack. I’d have several after dinner. I would know that this was not good for me and that it was self-defeating behavior, but when you get right down to it, I really like sweets, and their presence overrides my wisdom.
I did not make cookies. I am fairly whiny about this. I want a treat. I’m tired of being good. And oh look, by George, it turns out that today is day 11 of being good. I actually had to look to find that out, but did I not say that days 1-3 would be very hard, and then days 10-12 would be equally suckful? I did. And they are.
But this morning I got on the scale. Having stopped eating sweets, and with no other change in my behavior, I have lost 4.4 pounds in the past eleven days.
I eat too goddamned many sweets.