Another weigh in. Another 0.6 pounds. What the....! Where are the other .4 of one pound! Could it have been those amazing french fries I had at Bink's the other night? Or the delicious meal I cooked for company on Saturday night? The baklava I made and devoured, topped with clotted cream mixed with heavy cream. Duh! Could that account for the other .4 of one pound? I think so! In fact, those luscious foods probably account for more than .4 of one pound. And I don't care. They were worth it. Yum.
Aerobics instructor at the gym shares birthday with me. Each year we trade off bringing in a cake for our birthday. This year it's her turn. She said I should work out extra hard so I won't feel guilty about having cake. Guilty? What's this with guilt over indulging? I'd be pissed if the cake sucked but if it's good, then I'm not going to feel guilty about enjoying something (in moderation, of course) that is an acceptable part of a birthday celebration.
This is one of the issues I have against dieting-the guilt thing. No one can follow a regimen, no matter how liberal, without straying once in a while unless she is a compulsive person. Then the big problem is not being fat but being compulsive! I'm just fat, thank goodness. I can stray. I can dip my spoon into chocolate creme brulee. In fact, I did that today. Out to lunch with two friends with whom I celebrate every year-for the past 20 years. We're all three Geminis. I dipped my spoon. I licked it several times. Creamy. Chocolaty. Delicious. But I was okay with just one dip. The other two are weight stable, slender, gorgeous (one a former model) and younger than I. Standing next to them, both of whom are much taller than I am, makes me feel squat and dumpy. So, let them enjoy the dessert. One day soon, I won't be dumpy...I'll always be short, though.