Its been how ever many days and I'm doing GREAT. No cravings, no difficult decisions. The food is yummy. Oh who am I kidding? 8-8:30pm rolls around and I'm twitching like a crack addict looking to score. But its not meat, or animal products per say. Its SUGAR. glorious, refined, bleached in animal bones, deadly for you SUGAR. Beautiful, SUGAR.
I didn't realize what my nightly ritual of a stolen from the kids treat was for me. After they go to bed I have, a cookie, ice cream, chocolate, cake, pie, whip cream on hot chocolate, mm mm chocolate. My hands are tingly, and I'm shaky. Not to mention freaking bitchy.
DO NOT tell me to have a piece of fruit, I swear I will end you. Its not the same. Not one little bit. I don't want a cup of tea, or oat meal with maple syrup. I want something so horribly fattening for me that they have to create entire documentaries and pamphlets on how its going to kill me.
I swear if I end up on death row, my last meal is going to be Avenue Cakery & Bake Shop Butter cream icing, and KFC chicken skin. (I'm assuming there is processed sugar in the breading or I wouldn't be tying this all together)
Now to roam my house with a purpose. While my "supportive" husband calmly reminds me why I'm doing this.
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