I expected yesterday to be a tough time for me. I was working on an event with a woman in my office who really just doesn't seem to like me very much. She was instrumental in getting me hired, but now, I get the impression that I've let her down somehow. I try. I take a genuine interest in her life but try not to be intrusive, but I still seem to bug her. I know I shouldn't let it get to me. I don't need the whole world to approve of me, but it does bum me out. It definitely added to the stress of the day and made me desperately want a brownie.
I've mentioned before that the most dangerous time of the day for me is right when I get home from work. I'm usually still stressed out or upset about something. The house is quiet; the food is there promising to comfort and fill the void that my day carved out. If left unchecked, I could easily eat half a day's points between 5 and 6, all BEFORE dinner!
I anticipated that this nasty habit could rear its ugly head yesterday afternoon, so while I was walking at lunch, I developed a strategy. I decided that I would walk the dog for 20 minutes as soon as I got home, then I would put some laundry away and do an assortment of chores. Then if I had time left, I would start making dinner. I rehearsed it over and over and you know what? I went home and read for an hour instead. But what's important is that I didn't snack. I got it straight in my mind that I would not be munching, and I didn't. Yay!
But the temptation didn't end there. After dinner, when we were clearing up, my sister started talking about ice cream and about how she was really jonesing. She started listing our favorite varieties. She offered to buy. We live right next to a grocery store. Close enough for me to practically smell Stephen Colbert's Americone Dream. I thought, "I really deserve it; I had a tough day."
But then I had a moment of clarity. A pint of Ben & Jerry's is usually a whole day's points and I KNOW I don't have the restraint to eat just some of it. I need to poke my spoon around the little cardboard container until I get every last morsel of yummy goodness. (Then I usually lick the lid). I could almost feel a riot building within my chest. I could feel the loss of control, and I didn't like it. It's not like I'm never going to eat ice cream again, but I knew that getting it last night would be a defeat. So I said, "Let's make a deal. If we still want the ice cream when we go grocery shopping this weekend, we'll buy it. Neither one of us is hungry right now anyway." My sister agreed and that saboteur inside me was silenced for the night. I felt successful and in control.