It’s January 4th. The kids are gone (but they’ll all be back in two weeks for a wedding, so don’t cue the sad violin music just yet). Naturally, I should be starting my diet today. But let’s be real—there are so many snacks left in this house. So… Monday it is.
Why Monday, though? I work from home. Saturdays and Mondays are basically the same to me. Yet here I am, stuffing my face with leftover Christmas cookies, half a bag of pretzels, and maybe a piece of fudge (or three) until I roll into Monday morning—probably two pounds heavier.
Why do we do this? Why do we treat the night before a diet like it’s our last meal before the electric chair? Don’t we all binge like we’re prepping for hibernation? It’s not like the snacks won’t still exist after Monday.
This blog started 12 years ago as a way to keep me accountable for weight loss in my forties. Now I’m in my late fifties, and not much has changed…except that I have tasted the thin life. OK, maybe not thin, but for a hot second, I was happy in my body for the first time in 15 years. That moment didn’t last long—because it never does—but I’ve got to at least try to get that feeling back.
And now, here I am, preparing to restart (again). I should probably add a “restarts” tab to this blog at this point.
To be continued… because the snacks are calling.
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