There are days and weeks and months when I don't even remember my addiction to sugar. When life flows along smoothly and I hardly think of cookies at all.
Then there are weeks like these. Where I'm clinging to my food diary, clawing for willpower to stick to my recommended daily caloric intake, but I can't stop thinking about cupcakes and as an amputee misses a limb, rolling my tongue around imaginary ice cream. Chocolatey. Creamy. With brownie chunks. In an attempt to see it but not eat it, I google "pastries" and look at the images. I think, "I would buy five of those, two of those, sample that one. Oh, with coffee, or no - with milk, I think."
The google night, only my laziness saved me. I loathe running out to the store. It would mean getting out of my pajamas. And even if I could go through a drive-thru, it's so light out at night that yes, I'd still have to change out of my PJs or risk being seen. I contented myself with images and toast.
But yesterday... I had a bazillion errands to do. PJs already shed. Already in car and on road. Plus I needed legit groceries. So, as a reward for accomplishing my bazillion errands and it must be noted, changing out of my PJs, I purchased cupcakes and ice cream. I have thrown in the towel, surrendered, and retreated to my couch to lick my wounds - and my ice cream spoon.
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