Wouldn't You Rather?

Ugh. This week has been so frustrating. The X is literally taking up all of my time. I work 9 AM to 7 PM Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday-which means on those days I come home, pop in the dvd, workout, and don't get to relax until I'm done at 9:30 or 10:00. I hadn't been sleeping that well and finally figured out it's because my adrenaline is going beserk until 11 or 11:30-which makes getting up any earlier than 7 very very difficult (plus, let's face it, I'm not a morning person anyway). Blake keeps telling me that the first two weeks are the hardest. I believe him. I just keep waiting for him to say, I meant the first 2 months were the hardest.

Okay, if I'm going to be really honest...

I hate the diet. Who thought that too much meat would be a bad thing? After two weeks of almost nothing but, I would kill for a Krispy Kreme...or biscuits and gravy...or french fries (ooo, french fries). Every trip to the grocery store is torture. In order to buy my whole wheat bagels I have to walk past the cookies. Low fat cheese is right next to the forbidden cream cheese, and my french vanilla creamer sits on the bottom shelf of my fridge patiently waiting to fulfill it's destiny of turning my morning coffee into creamy latte goodness. Every morning I have to ignore it's pitiful stare as I reach instead for the skim milk. Oh sigh.

No wonder people on a diet are always so cranky.

Every night I drive home, wondering, "Why oh why did I decide to do this?" Every night my reason walks through the door and wraps me in his arms and inspires me to be the best me I can be, in every way possible.

Just don't ask me to choose between him and a Krispy Creme for another 88 days.