“Man, I’d kill for a muffin right now.”
“You don’t need a muffin. You just had pumpkin bread for breakfast.”
“I know, but a muffin sure would taste good!”
“No. No muffin.”
“Fine,” she answers, walking away in a huff.
I go back to writing, typing as fast as my fingers can fly.
“How ‘bout some Starbucks? A raspberry latte only has 5 points.”
“How much caffeine do you need? You already had two big mugs of coffee this morning!”
“You are no fun,” she pouts. Then she starts picking at her finger nails. Soon she is entranced.
I try to return my focus to my computer. But instead, I start to think about everything I have to do. And how many meetings I have to attend this week. How on earth am I going to get it all done?
Panic sets in. There’s no possible way. Unless I don’t sleep. But of course I have to sleep.
I take a deep breath and decide to focus on one project, one page, and one word at a time. I can do this. I will do this. It always gets done.
But still, my heart beats a little faster than it should.
She comes to stand over my shoulder.
“You know what would settle you down? A chocolate milkshake. You should go downstairs and get a shake at lunch.”
“I don’t need a milkshake, damn it. I need to lose 30 pounds!”
“Ahh, well, what’s one more milkshake going to hurt? Those 30 pounds will still be there tomorrow.”
“Just. Shut. Up. I’m trying to concentrate over here.”
“Okay, just trying to help. You know chocolate always calms you down.”
And that, my friends, is my life.
I am a stress eater. And I am almost always stressed.
Every damn day is a battle between me and my psyche.
Sometimes I win. Sometimes I lose. But the war? Is never over.
That’s why I’m joining in the “Let’s Get Physical” weight loss challenge at my friend Wendy’s place.
It starts September 4. Runs for eight weeks. And people? It’s a competition.
You know how I hate to lose.
So I’m going to win. By losing. Losing big.
Wish me luck.