So this is turning out to be a LOT more difficult that I thought it would be. We had to find a new home for our dog Maggie because she bit my son. I've been trying for a while and finally found a rescue that only takes Miniature Schnauzers and will find her a home with no children. I feel very lucky because they seem to be a very caring organization and were very thorough about whether or not they would take her. So the official date is Saturday, and I'm not gonna lie, it sucks. Sure, she was annoying sometimes and a handful but I've had her since she was 8 weeks old. She is now almost 7.
I decided to assuage my feelings by doing some retail therapy yesterday. I know, I know, probably not how I should be dealing with it, but at least I didn't crack open a bottle of wine and bust into some Ben & Jerry's. (Otherwise I wouldn't have fit into the rockin' jeans I got, and the size 4 dress, yes I said size 4!!!) Which leads us to today.
Bill's (a coworker) birthday was last week and there has been a four-layer, knock-your-socks-off, ascend into chocolate heaven cake in the fridge. He knew I was in a rotten mood, so he busted it out, and I enjoyed every single bite. If that's not a huge Grand Canyon step away from my goal, I don't know what is. But nonetheless, the damage is done and I'm moving on. My husband has been very supportive through the whole ordeal, including telling me to step away from the chocolate. But sometimes I just want to undignify myself and shove my whole face in a chocolate cake, like a one year old on her birthday. Is that so bad?
I'm sure I'll get over it and move on and continue with my goal, but for today I'm choosing to wallow in my sadness and eat a damn piece of chocolate cake!
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