I need to start packing my lunch. This is highly amusing since I’ll be packing it to go to… the living room. I thought working from home would mean that I could lose weight. After all, I’d be able to work out every day. And I have.
But there are cookies.
Yeah, there were cookies and ice cream and Mexican food and omelets and lattes and bagels… OMG. There was a ton of good food at the day job. But I could ignore a lot of it. Well, some of it. And I could ignore the vending machines.
Here, the cookies sit on the counter. Under the microwave. And they call to me. They’re really good. And evil. I can mostly ignore the Wallyworld fake Oreo’s. Well, I can stop at one. But then there are the chocolate chip cookies that I made. With butter. They’re really good with a glass of chardonnay. Just saying.
It seems I don’t work out enough to cover a lunch of chocolate chip cookies. Which is a bummer. But I’m not planning on working out a lot more than I am now. Heck, I went from twice a week to daily. That should say something. And it should be affecting the number on the scale. Or is that effect. Agh. Verb, noun, you know what I mean.
But the numbers aren’t moving. They were. And then the cookies called.
So I’m seriously thinking of packing my lunch. If it isn’t in the bag, I can’t eat it. Is it crazy for me to move a dorm fridge into my living room?
On the up side, I feel stronger, feel like I look better, have less stress and ¾ of a book plotted. Now, if the dog would stop walking by happily – very happily – and rearranging scenes until I can get the final plot figured out, it would be good.
And worthy of a cookie. Or two.