Since I've been rather bored and restless lately, especially with the absence of most of my favorite TV pacifiers due to summer, I've had to find new and interesting ways to entertain myself. So, I've taken up some new hobbies, and resumed some old ones. I've begun making jewelry and playing with beads again, I've been reading, I've been spending time in my yard planning the placement and setup of my pool, and daydreaming endlessly of how blissful it will be when it finally gets here, I've even taken to following the dogs around the house with a camera taking their pictures (which I may post some of for you later, if I get motivated enough). This is kinda fun, but it really annoys the dogs. I've also been trying to get back into the whole diet thing, and trying to be active, doing mini workouts whenever the mood and opportunity strikes, and I've done really well. Until this morning. I was just sitting there, minding my own business, and I innocently went into the kitchen, searching for a snack, and before I knew it I was whipping up a chocolate cake. I don't know how it happened. I was just about to pour it into the pan before I realized what I was doing. I stopped, and thought "what am I doing??!" I don't need cake. What about my diet? Cake is bad for a diet. But, by then it was too late. I couldn't stop myself. I finished it, frosted it with a ton of gooey chocolate frosting, and then I cut myself a big ol' hunk of cake..damn was it goood!!! Now, I have a problem. I have this whole cake in my kitchen, sitting on my counter all smug and happy with itself, because it knows I'm weak. It's going to sit there, laughing at me, mocking me, daring me to eat it..or daring me NOT to eat it, until it's gone. I can't eat a whole cake, that would just be wrong. Yet, I can't throw it away because that would be wasting a really, really delicious cake. Luckily for me, J and John came in, and I cut them each a huge slab of cake, too. That helped a little, but the rest of it is still out there, and I can hear it callling my name. It says, "Come on..you know ya want me. You know how absolutely yummy I am, all sweet, moist, chocolatey, and covered in thick chocolate frosting. You know you can't resist the frosting. I do know that I can't, too. I'm holding out, so far, but I don't know how much longer I can manage. I may have to call in reinforcements, and have my mom come by and get some of it. I really, really would love nothing better than to go in there and just throw it away, but I just can't do it. I'd be like Miranda in that SATC episode where she throws away the cake she made, and then digs it out of the trash and eats it. Sad. Pathetic. That would be me. I have rationalized that it's not too, too bad that I gave in to the cake, because I can think of it as a last indulgence, and now that I no longer have any cake mixes or frosting in my house, I can be free to concentrate on healthier things. I've been eating healthier. I'm getting my pool, and most likely an exercise bike or treadmill of some sort with my next check. Maybe one little cake isn't all that bad, really. I just have to stay away from it, and I'll be fine. I'll let J and John eat it. Yeah, that's it! Okay, I can do this. I am stronger than the cake. I can resist ..and I will be fine. And if I cave and lose it, and devour the evil thing in it's entirety by myself by the end of the evening.... I'll still be okay. Weak and undisciplined with a bigger, fatter ass, but still okay.