I’ve lost twenty pounds since 2015 graced the calendar with its arrival.
So today, instead of continuing my path of restraint, I have a hot dog for lunch.
That is the life of a food addict who will use any excuse to reward himself with things that are not good for him.
Because I am the most self-aware addict I know, I tell on myself in the most public of forums, disclosing my sin by making it the subject of my blog post.
I put ketchup and onions on the dog and I accompanied it with a side of fried devil spuds from Idaho.
My debauchery is in full force as I celebrate my accomplishment by taking a giant leap backward.
Yes I will get on the wagon again tomorrow but twenty pounds could have been twenty-five or even thirty if I had more discipline.
The dog in all of its nitrate poisoning self was delicious. It called to me as I got in the car to go buy a salad.
The salad didn’t stand a chance. Those defenseless greens were facing a biting enemy who was growling in my stomach and searching for a willing mouth like a puppy at the pound looking for a home.
I gave in because I am an addict.
I will ask for perpetual forgiveness and promise to do better tomorrow until the next meal, the next celebration or the next stress.
That is the way of addiction. Restrain, give in, guilt up, forgive, forget and start again. My twelve-steps are up to the condiment counter where I can add more little white lies onto my already horrid sin.
I will eat my feelings and I will challenge myself on this goal I’m embarking on to lose fifty pounds before I reach the age of fifty. With seven months to go and thirty more to lose, it is possible but only if I follow the rules.
For today, the dog is having his day and having lost twenty pounds I feel like a loser for all the wrong reasons.
And, all of those wrong reasons are making my head think donut.
I should have put that dog down when I had the chance.