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- F. Lawrence Caslin
Emma K
As a youngster, Emma K found happiness in the bottom of a glass, but alas, that gave her hangovers. Later she found happiness in the middle of a jam donut, but that made her fat. Now finds happiness in writing sarcastic witticisms, and the upside is that there are no side-effects. Emma K's website
Oh No, Here Come The Diet Police PDF Print E-mail
Written by Emma K   
Wednesday, 05 March 2008

ImageImageThis dieting thing is really no fun, but since I am thinnish now, I will have to keep it up until the dawn of time. It is just a question of mindset. I mean, when I got married, sure, I could lust after a young buck with firm abs, but I'd stop at the point of chatting up said buck in a bar or starting a raging passionate affair. Because you just don't do that, do you? 

Unfortunately, I'm having problems applying the same principles to my diet.

If I see a doughnut or a chocolate cookie or a huge vat of cream, I am naturally inclined to dive in. There is no little voice telling me that this is a seriously bad idea. That indulging will ruin my marriage/waistline, and will result in divorce/rolls of fat around middle.

ImageLuckily, therefore, I have my husband. After years of being a mild mannered individual who never told me I was fat, he has now decided it's time to get tough.

Yesterday evening, when we were at the pool, I decided to have a little swim. But he made me stay in the pool for over an hour! Every time I got out he said, "just five more laps."

Sure I felt great, but when I got home my natural impulse was to eat everything in the fridge, including the mustard and bottle of ketchup. I did in fact start eating some warmed up Chinese take out. At which point my husband came in and said, "How many meals have you had today?" And it was true, I had sort of had dinner already, although dinner was an apple and half a cheese sandwich. So I threw the Chinese in the trash.

I don't particularly like this bad side of my husband, but if he's helping me lose weight, I'm going to embrace it.

 





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