one of my favorite jokes goes like this:
What is the most popular day to start a diet?
Tomorrow. har de har har
Everyday I want to eat something. Lots of somethings. And right before I shove them in my mouth I think "well, I'll just eat better tomorrow."
Tomorrow I won't eat sugar. Tomorrow I won't eat at 11:30pm no matter how hungry I am - I'll just go to bed (where I should be anyway!). Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow.
Well, there have been a year's worth of tomorrows. Sophie is one year old and I am the same weight I was a week after her birth, despite at one point weighing almost 15 lbs less. Pathetic.
I have done nothing. I have changed nothing. I have rationalized hundreds of meals and snacks, thousands of calories, and ten pounds that is rapidly turning into fifteen.
And this stagnation, this failure to motivate or even try is eating away at me. I'm fat, I'm frumpy, why shouldn't I just sit home in my sweatpants eating?
If I felt better, I'd eat better. If I ate better, I'd feel better. And the snake eats its own tail forever and ever.
I don't know what it is going to take to get me moving forward. I don't know what it is going to take to keep me moving forward once I start.
I just know I can't wait for any more tomorrows.