I wanted a cookie

I was laying in bed, watching one of my shows that I watch in the bedroom because I know the SO wouldn't want to watch it and so I will not force it upon him in the living room. While I was laying there, a commercial for something or other came on. Since my mind was not paying attention to the commercial, I started thinking about the fact that I wanted a chocolate chip cookie.

Now chocolate chip cookies are my favorite. You can make any other dessert you want for me, even triple-chocolate cheesecake comes in second to chocolate chip cookies. I've spent time perfecting my recipe. Just that extra dash of salt, a tad less baking soda, one dash cinnamon, etc. To the point where I love them and they are ooey-gooey-melt-in-your-mouth good. I can whip up one of these batches in approximately twenty minutes (and I'm sorry if I just made any of you want a chocolate chip cookie).

Then I started to wonder if I really wanted a chocolate chip cookie or if I wanted one of them because I was bored due to a commercial taking up three minutes of the show that I was interested in. I was bored. I knew I was bored. So knowing this, why did I still want a chocolate chip cookie.

I went and got a drink of water. By the time I came back my show was back on and I settled in to watch it. Then came another commercial. Thoughts of chocolate chip cookies came dancing into my head. "NO" I don't want a chocolate chip cookie, I told myself. Then I thought of the weight I've lost so far. I've lost 10 lbs. 'Not a miraculous number by any means,' I thought, but then my mind countered, 'But it's still ten lbs. Ten lbs. less than you weighed six weeks ago.' My brain was right.

I wanted to know what ten lbs. looked like, what it really weighed when placed in my hands. I suddenly needed to feel how much weight I had lost. I had three pounds of beef in the fridge to make meatballs for a potluck at work this week and so I darted to the kitchen and held that three pound package in my hands. It was heavy. It was heavier than I expected. I had lost more than three of these put together.

Suddenly I didn't want a chocolate chip cookie. I was proud, not bored. Proud of the achievement I had made even if it was "only" ten lbs. I was proud that I was going to lose another lb, and another, and another. That ten was going to become twenty and that twenty would be thirty, and, well, you get the picture.

I hit a bend in this road I'm on. A roadblock labeled "COOKIE" stopped up my path for a minute, but "FAT" or a little lack of it pushed me passed it. In this instance I succeeded, in others I won't. I just have to keep reminding myself that this journey is not a 1-lb-trip to the local market, it's a trip now forty pounds (not fifty!!!) away. I just need to keep going.