Everyone picks weight loss as a prime New Year resolution. I didn't do that this time around - as a matter of fact, my only resolution was to drink more interesting wines.
But here I find myself flipping through the latest Weight Watchers "pocket guide", spending an hour of my precious evening down time crunching numbers while I construct my lunch. Knowing that the first few weeks are pretty miserable while my body adjusts brings a nasty foretaste of anxiety and dread to my palate.
Still, it's not a resolution. It's not going to be something I'm going to give up on in a couple weeks. I may stumble, I may hit a few roadblocks, I may have a total meltdown and gorge myself on Haagen-Dazs and peanut butter (right out of the jar) but I won't give up.
Today, for example. Chocolate and Timbits in the office, curly fries in the cafeteria, and one editing crisis after another. Somehow, I managed to walk by the Timmy's box in the hall without stopping to snarf a handful, and heard myself saying, again and again (in increasingly firm tones) "no, thank you" when all I wanted to say was yes, OHMYGAWD yes, pleeeeeeeeeeeeeasssssssssse.
Bear with me. Once the initial sugar withdrawal wears off, I should be alright. Anyone within arm's reach better not be carrying chocolate, though.