Today is the most awesome Monday in the history of Mondays. Which is odd because it didn't start particularly great. In fact, my three year old had to be picked up and carried into her classroom. She was protesting the color of the sky or some other random uselessness. But nothing could stop me on the way to a good day. Productive at work. Glasses with two arms. Slept on clean sheets. And not one single solitary living creature woke me up in the night. Practically perfect in every way. The beauty of having low standards.
I have a feeling tomorrow will be a lot less perfect. We're out of Dr. Pepper and I've decided to give it up again. That's a silly game I like to torture myself with every few months. Generally when my pants have gotten tight. And let's just say my pants have gotten a little tight recently. My pants, my pajamas, my underwear. You name it. Nothing says you've packed on the pounds like tight Victoria's Secret panties cutting into your groin. It's right up there with your thighs rubbing together. Hot.
I like to start each and every good weight loss effort by pretending to give up Dr. Pepper. Sometimes it lasts several weeks. Sometimes it lasts until I walk by the break room at work. I think my record is 8 months straight back in 1995. The best Coke of my life was the one I drank at the end of the 8 months. Is it wrong that I have such distinct memories of that Coke? And does it speak volumes about my co dependence on soda or is that just me?