On the Wagon

Not the booze wagon - the crap wagon. I decided, about 10 days ago, to stop eating crap.

Yes, yes, this may indeed turn into Gwen's latest self-improvement project, and may dissolve and be scattered to the wind just like so many other ardently-wished wishes. But I'm doing it anyway.

I am doing it one day at a time, as the anonymouses suggest, and it seems to be working. It helps that I have a friend in OA - overeaters anonymous - with whom I had a fascinating discussion a few weeks ago. She said that after doing some of the OA work, she discovered that she overate as a rebellion against her parents. But who did overeating really hurt? Only herself. I was trying to figure out why I overeat (and I definitely overeat; my metabolism has just allowed me not to pay for it yet). (I have a theory but I haven't yet worked it out completely.)

Anyway, so I resolved to spend a day eating less. No muffin with my mid-morning coffee break. Decaf with my mid-morning coffee break instead of high-test. Absolutely no dipping into the 'emergency' chocolate stash that we have at work. Skip the chocolate bar for dessert after lunch. Skip the ice cream before bed, and have a nice cup of 'sleepytime' tea and toast instead.

And then I did it for another day and then another.

I didn't notice any changes for a few days, but then I suddenly started getting excessively stupid! Unbelievably fuzzy. My caffiene crutch was gone, and I was loose as a goose. So much for 'my child wakes me up 2-3 times every night and it doesn't seem to affect me anymore'. Ha ha ho - it was all a choco-chemical reality. The Mummy walks!

After the initial physiological shock, I'm adjusting, and I'm really starting to feel fabulous. We'll see how far into the Christmas season I get.