Tagged sacrifice

Day 2: Desperation (already)

I’m sad to report that I’ve been struggling with the no-sweets deal. In fact, I probably should’ve clarified the No Goodies list before I began… because since Holy Day, I’ve had animal crackers, fruit snacks, and Twizzlers. I know. I mean, these are all things that could be deemed sweets, but I guess I had more of a no-cake-cookies-or-ice-cream thing in mind. I’ve been getting grief from those around me. That’s the thing with abstinence (from anything). It’s not just pressure from yourself you deal with, daily, but the pressure of those around you, prodding and poking like they’ve never tried to give up anything before. This is why I fail over and over again with the smoking crap, among other silly habits (hair-twirling, saying “psyche” after things–I stopped, I swear…etc).

I’m not good with pressure. I’d like to say I’m one of those cats who holds her own under a deadline or habit-breaking, but to the contrary, I crumble like a boneless otter. Bah. To compensate for my lack of “sweets,” I’ve begun gorging on my meals, eating seconds (even thirds). From past posts, we realize this is nothing new. I get in phases where I need to eat until I want to puke. Plus, I think knowing that I can’t do something is making me want to do it. Classic, right?
Due to this whole thing, I’ve been aimlessly making laps through the kitchen with x-ray vision, imagining all the goodies my shelves contain, as if they were going to pop out and jump down my throat. I wish. It’s fine, though. I mean, the only time I really crave chocolate is… who am I kidding? I crave it all the time. Bad, Chicken.
So yesterday, which was Day 2, I thought I had found the loophole. I pretty much thought I was brilliant. Chocolate Mini Wheats.
Teesh, probably feeling cheated by her own chocolate-depravation, caught me “left-handed”–as my coworker’s kid called it one day. Obviously, I made the rules, so I decided right then and there that I was allowed chocolate cereal. The first bites felt a little like heaven. Pathetic.
I refused to stop then. I devoured biscuit after biscuit as she scolded me. I even poured myself a glass of milk. In my defense, it is┬ácereal. And though Teesh wasn’t having it, I just kept screaming the same desperate line over and over:
I guess that’s the end of my tale. Sadly, Teesh and I were at odds for the rest of the night and we ended up tackling each other, then boxing. Boxing. It’s a new hobby in our house. Sort of like Fight Club. That’ll be saved for the next entry.
So long, kids. <3