There is a container of chocolate chunk cookies on my kitchen counter. I bought cookie dough from the kid down the street. It was a fundraiser to buy new wrestling uniforms. When he knocked on my door with his wares, I thought to myself, "I would not want to wear someone else's singlet, so I'm going to buy some cookie dough." Said cookie dough was delivered last night, and I baked four sheets of cookies while I finished the day's transcription.
And today the cookies are taunting me. I did manage to reduce their power by 50%, sending half of the cookies to work with Kevin, but the rest of them are just sitting there on the kitchen counter. This would not be a problem if I didn't go into the kitchen every 10 minutes to get Harry milk, juice, an apple, some crackers, a cookie.
It also doesn't help that I'm in a major funk today. After 20 straight days on the Wii Fit I've lost no weight. I'm being crushed by the monotony of reading the same Curious George story 10 times a day, every day. One of the doctors I type for is ill and sleepy, making him a dictation nightmare.
And those cookies are staring at me. I just have to keep reminding myself that eating a cookie is not going to change anything: except my weight.
1 year ago