Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Back on the Wagon

It's disgusting to me that the only way I seem to be able to accomplish anything, in this case dieting, is by obsessing over it.  I mean nothing I do gets done unless I charge it like Hamburger Hill.  So, here I am, back to the only thing that ever works, but dadgum is it so unpleasant, counting calories.  Eyeballing, weighing, measuring, logging, and always, the nagging hunger.  Food is all I think about, and my pride won't allow me to say the words that are scrolling through my head like a news ticker:

I'm hungry. I'm hungry, I'm hungry.

The only thing I can say about this method, besides the fact that gosh dog it, it works, is that it gives me a feeling of control, and the hunger lets me know it's working. Cuss, though, I wish I had the self control to just be sensible.  Ironic, isn't it; I have the will to be ascetic but not to be comfortably restrained. 

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