I have all sorts of stuff I’d like to write about today, but there’s no way I can write them without making my family or friends look bad. Let’s just say, I eat way too many sweets–partly because I don’t have a lot of self-control and partly because people in my life keep a lot of sweets around–and I have a goal to stop eating after 8 p.m., which I was successful at for about two weeks before life got in my way.
I hated myself last night because I ate a hot fudge sundae at 11 p.m. last night (my husband brought it home to me after I resisted bringing home Krispy Kreme donuts). Yes, I was hungry, but I should have at least eaten something healthy, like the fruit I keep in the freezer or some cheese.
Tonight we’re having Chinese food. Good Springfield Chinese food. I tell myself that it may be a good idea to cut fried foods out of my diet, but then I remember Springfield cashew chicken and I know I’ll never be able to. Quite frankly, I’d rather cut out processed sugars or whatever they’re called.
I want to read the Maker’s Diet, because I’ve heard good things about it, but I’m almost certain I won’t be able to convince my husband it’s a good idea. He isn’t the bad guy: he would just need convinced with a lot of good reasons first.
