My husband is upstairs in the kitchen baking Stouffer’s Cheesy Enchiladas. Isn’t there some law against that? Can I just call the fat-sheriff and ask him to haul hubby off to the city park to cook and eat his dinner? I peaked in the fridge to see what else he bought while I was at church and saw a Marie Calendar Cherry Pie. It serves 10 at 330 calories a piece. So that is about 3300 calories in one disposable aluminum dish. I know there really aren’t ten servings! More like six! So that’s 550 calories per serving. Why does he do that to me? I am frustrated that he’s so insensitive to what I am trying to accomplish in the next few months. Yea! He bought bananas; I AM grateful for that, [in fact I grabbed one and stuffed it in my mouth after Sunday Fast while I was checking out the calories in the enchiladas.] but the fridge is [again] topped with all sorts of gooey things: sticky buns, sweet rolls, Ho-Hos, and Little Debbie Strawberry Shortcake. How dare he! I’ve got my 40-year reunion coming up for Pete’s sake!

If he only knew what it’s like to grill my Orange Roughy or Tilapia and smother it in onions, green peppers, and fat-free tarter. If he only knew how hard it is to enjoy spinach and tuna salad with radishes, kale and hard boiled egg whites when he fills the house with j.u.n.k. and let’s the thousand-calorie aromas waft through the house.

I grabbed my standby, Bruce’s Cereal, [a blend of 7-8 whole grains that I buy in a 25 pound bag at Kitchen Kneads] and steamed an apple to go with it. Delish. But not quite satisfying. I can hear my husband moving upstairs across the squeaky kitchen floor going for seconds. Really, seconds! Squeak, squeak, squeak. He just yelled down the stairs, “Do you want any of this or should I put it in the refrigerator?” Me: “In the fridge; you know I’m dieting [again].” [Little grumpy, annoyed voices in my brain] “More like dying!”

Ok, pep talk. ‘Nothing tastes better than being thin feels.’ [I’m so dang tired of saying that to myself.]
‘Don’t give up what I want most for what
would really taste fantastic I want right now.’
‘Every day, in every way, I’m getting smarter, wiser, and b.e.t.t.e.r!’
Here’s one I just found. ‘Bigger snacks mean bigger slacks.’ Really, that’s just dumb. I’m heading for size 10!
Here’s a much better one. ‘My fat scares me – it’s a ticking time bomb.’ ~
 Carrie Latet. Ok, that curbed my appetite!

Anyhoo, off to read WW’s Book 3 Staying Ahead of Hunger. I’m determined to have a fantastic WI [weigh in] tomorrow night which requires that I eat consciously today and tomorrow until meeting. It requires that I remember how hard the last month has been and how hard it is to lose two pounds but how easy it is to put three back on. It requires that I think well of myself and treat myself with love and respect and that I recognize hunger signals for what they really are –hungry, full, or just right. It also means that I need to avoid eating for emotional reasons — stress, sadness, anxiety, boredom, even happiness. [right out of the book!]

If it isn’t about hunger, food isn’t the solution! I know that! My head knows it. My stomach sometimes often forgets. Squeak, squeak, squeak, oven opening, pie coming out. Uugghhh. I’m going upstairs to have my baby-spinach-whole-orange-fresh-strawberries-frozen-banana smoothie. THAT will show him!

I will work on it one day at a time. “Today I will try not to let myself get too hungry, or too full.” Repeat.