|Sugar Cookies, Sinus Infections and Spare Tires
||[Dec. 28th, 2010|04:31 pm]
I've got them all. Nothing like being sick for a week, totally stressed out and time-starved to add on the pounds. Oh, yeah. |
It didn't help being snowbound with my mother. Who will make comments about my weight and then feed me a potato-sausage casserole accompanied by coffee cake and juice. And then serve cheese and crackers, pizza bagels, mozzarella sticks, and an artichoke/spinach dip for "in-betweens". Then sandwiches for lunch. Then a seafood lasagna for dinner. Plus, trays of homemade cookies lying about the house like waistline landmines. Three different kinds of dessert and the ever-pouring bottle of wine. Cocktails. Champagne.
Kee-Riste. It's a wonder I could still fit in the car on the way home. This is going to take a while to work off.
I did attempt aversion therapy. I've found that sometimes I'm better off, when faced with some food temptation, to just eat it all. All of it, instead of parceling it out and attempting to ration myself. Giving myself permission to have a pair of cookies a day...my brain translates that as permission to have a pair of ANYTHING bad a day. Not just one pair of one thing. But cookies. And well, some potato chips. And okay, I can have a piece of that fudge, as long as it's JUST TWO.
Yeah, no, that doesn't work. I either have to physically limit the presence of the food, OR eat so damn much of it at one sitting that the very thought of eating anything else repulses me. To fill myself up with such guilt and self-loathing that it kickstarts "Healthy Eater Me" who is wont to hole up in some niche of my psyche, emerging occasionally, rubbing the sand out of her eyes, and wondering if maybe I couldn't use a little tuna fish for calcium. Or, gosh, wouldn't BEANS taste good?
So, I thought, a deluge of sugar cookies. That will jolt that HEM out of wherever she's hiding, lulled into a near-coma. I will eat sugar cookies until I can eat no more.
Mind you, these are MY sugar cookies. LOL Butter, Cane Sugar, Double concentrate Madagascar vanilla blended with Single Concentrate Mexican. Flour, pinch of sea salt. Egg washed and decorated in lovely sprinkles and sugars.
But still. I soldiered on, waiting for the tipping point, the point of diminishing returns. Where suddenly, the thought of putting another cookie in my mouth was vaguely repulsive.
Apparently, my capacity for sugar cookies is limitless.
330 days to de-blimp myself before its sugar cookie season again.