Not an ounce of guilt

(sing it with me!) It's the most WONderful tiiiiime, of the monnnnnnth...

Ok, so any males who cross my path may not understand, but ANY woman knows what it means when another woman orders a combination of chocolately chocolate, salty/sweet peanut butter, topped off with brownies and - what else? - more chocolate! And they give that woman whatever she wants. Because they feel her pain, and they know that when they finish that last pill in their little blister pack, they'll be on the prowl for some similarly gross combo.

Used to be, something like this would be the beginning of a setback that could last a week, but more likely could screw with me for close to a month. I'd think to myself, "Well, the day is blown to hell now, why not get a Big Mac and fries on the way home while you're indulging?" I'd skip the next day's workout, give myself a pass the following day, and wake up 6 months later and 20lbs heavier.

What happened on this day was, however, eerily different. In a good way, though. I enjoyed every salty, chocolatey bite of this overly rich and sweet treat. It was just what I had been craving and I had my fill of it. When I was done, sure, some of those old thoughts crept into the back of my mind, but they were fleeting. I went home and worked out for an hour. Not at all out of a sense of guilt, but because that's what was on my schedule. More importantly, I wanted to have time for Sunday morning indulgence I had been looking forward to: A leisurely hour before work, drinking steaming hot fresh coffee and savoring the Sunday paper.

My, how my tastes have stayed the same.. and my, how my tastes have changed.