I'm so exhausted thinking about my weight gain and then pretending NOT to think about my weight gain. What a sick, sick game that is. Is it society telling us we should care so damn much or do we simply know we shouldn't have let this happen to our magnificently created bodies.
What bothers me the most is the fact that I let myself down by not losing weight, not eating healthy and not moving my butt more than from the couch to the fridge. I don't like how failure feels. I can't point the accusing finger at anyone but me and, well, ouch. Why does the Twinkie hold more self-respect than me? It's just laying there doing its job - taunting me, calling me, wanting me to stroke it, smell it, enjoy its fluffy, moist goodness. Ok, this is sounding sexual in nature, so I'll just keep going..... HA, u wish!
But it's me. It's all me. I'm a successful woman on so many levels (aren't we all). Then why is this challenge so very hard? What is it about losing weight that is so difficult? Lazy? Don't care enough? All of the above? Enough. My stomach is calling and the Twinkie is doing its dance....They both lose tonight and I win.