Visions of Sugar Cookies Danced on my Hips

I was doing pretty well yesterday, consoling the hormonal cravings with a few cocoa-dusted almonds and some roasted edamame, watching Mad Men for inspiration and distraction. Then Beren called, suggested we take a friend out for chicken wings after work. I can do that, no problem. I'll have naked wings and a vodka cocktail, all set! Sitting there at Hootersfeeling all smug and On Program, imagining myself finally able to fit into those teeny tiny orange shorts they wear(hey, allow me the fantasy, ok?)I never thought I'd return home to find a plate full of sugar cookies, fresh-baked and calling to me. *groan* I confess: I caved. I scarfed down 2 of those babies right before bed, washed them down with a big gulp of Beren's beer. Ewwwww! I know, it doesn't sound good to me either but at the moment it hit the spot. Off I went to dreamland, sugar cookies dancing in my head and no doubt plastering themselves onto my hips as I slept.

So, here I am this morning, afraid to hop on the scale 'cause you know it's not gonna be good, honey. What to do? Nothing else I can do but just get back on track...again.

Do I sound frustrated? Disappointed? Ashamed? Yep, all of the above. What the heck is wrong with me? Where is my motivation, my willpower? If I can't resist a couple of slice & bake cookies I am doomed this holiday season! Help!

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