the rules

i like m.m.’s positive recipe contributions, but i’m not ready for that.  admittedly, when it comes to dieting, i do not have a positive relationship with food – or myself for that matter.  i have the ability to control what i eat, but i have to play mind tricks with myself to achieve this.  the things i tell myself are not positive or healthy.  self-deprication keeps me going.  thinking about it, this does sound like the makings of an eating disorder.  perhaps you can already categorize it as one.  i don’t like labels.

i felt really good after my first post.  i made myself a green salad for dinner and even used the disgusting salad ‘spritz’ instead of the dressing that i oh so very much desired.  i tried to fool my body into accepting this meager plate as a well balanced dinner – which it was not.  i felt really great eating the salad and should have followed it up with some protein.  however, i launched into a very dissatisfying food binge.  i didn’t eat a lot, nor did i make poor decisions about what i did eat.  but i was out of control, and i didn’t like it.

willpower. i can has it.
so, it’s time to set some rules for myself.  while working hard to achieve diet and exercise goals, i believe this is imperative.  the title of this post is deceiving.  i will not present the stone tablets high upon the hill for you now, but i will mention the one that is pivotal to my success.  i cannot eat after 7pm.  obviously, this makes me think of the cinematic masterpiece, Gremlins.  okay, masterpieces.  i loved the third installment.  but look what happened when Gizmo ate after midnight… gremlin
i say to myself, cheese louise, “if you put another morsel in your mouth it will course through your body, gain control and make you hideous!”
i thought about providing the other rules required for caring for your very own gremlin, but i came across this gem – especially appropriate for this chrismukkah season.  let us turn to phoebe cates’ character (does anyone else want to watch Drop Dead Fred?) in Gremlins for some holiday cheer.
” The worst thing that ever happened to me was on Christmas. Oh, God. It was so horrible. It was Christmas Eve. I was 9 years old. Me and Mom were decorating the tree, waiting for Dad to come home from work. A couple hours went by. Dad wasn’t home. So Mom called the office. No answer. Christmas Day came and went, and still nothing. So the police began a search. Four or five days went by. Neither one of us could eat or sleep. Everything was falling apart. It was snowing outside. The house was freezing, so I went to try to light up the fire. That’s when I noticed the smell. The firemen came and broke through the chimney top. And me and Mom were expecting them to pull out a dead cat or a bird. And instead they pulled out my father. He was dressed in a Santa Claus suit. He’d been climbing down the chimney… his arms loaded with presents. He was gonna surprise us. He slipped and broke his neck. He died instantly. And that’s how I found out there was no Santa Claus. “
i’m just hours away from commencing day 2 at the gym.  it’s nearly 1 a.m.  another rule i should follow is getting a good night’s sleep…
love,
c.l.
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