I was giving a massage at Cranwell today. Bart’s Coffee Heath Bar ice cream popped into my head. I can get it at a gas station on the way home from work. And I usually do when it pops into my head.
By usually I mean every single time.
Earlier this year I did a great job with my diet - I was going on a cruise and realized I better stop eating crap because I wasn’t going to fit into any of my shorts and, equally significantly - I couldn’t afford new clothes. I did great, my clothes fit perfectly when I went on the cruise.
Then I ate all the food.
Seriously, I gained five pounds that week.
More significantly, I started up again with the sugar and . . .
I have continued to eat all the food - especially recently. Honestly, it’s astonishing how quickly the body can grow.
So there I am, at work, thinking about Bart’s Coffee Heath Bar ice cream. I’m going to get some.
Wait, last time I ate a pint of this stuff . . . I didn’t really like it.
Okay, didn’t like it, won’t buy it.
Mmmmmmmmm Bart’s Coffee Heath Bar ice cream.
Wait, what was that I was just thinking? Right, it wasn’t worth it. Don’t buy the ice cream.
I’ll just stop by the gas station on the way home . . .
I managed, with constant, unremitting attention to skip the grocery store and the Bart’s Coffee Heath Bar ice cream. I went straight home. I had some left over chicken tortellini with pesto sauce. Since I am leaving my house tomorrow to be at work at 9 and I won’t be home until 6, and I have nothing to eat that’s portable, I went back out to buy some tortellini to prepare for tomorrow.
And with constant, unremitting attention to my choices, I made it out of Big Y with no sugar.