I am not on a diet. Diets don't work. I will never diet. That being said, I am trying to eat healthier. You know, less than 4 cookies a day. At this point in my life I would consider that a success.
I have eaten at least one cookie a day since Friday. On Friday I made chocolate chip cookies. In an effort to not eat them all in one sitting, I only baked nine. Out of those nine I probably ate five. Then Saturday I baked another nine. I ate approx. six. Sunday: Last of the cookie dough. Nine cookies baked. Six cookies consumed. By me.
In the first batch of cookies I didn't use the whole bag of chocolate chips because I added toffee. So Monday morning rolls around and I start getting the itch to bake some cookies. My only problem was that I only had one stick of butter, which is half of what the recipe called for. So I halved the recipe but changed it up just a little by making oatmeal chocolate chip cookies instead.
David claimed to be tired of cookies. Is that even possible? So naturally the only solution was for me to eat four out of the six baked cookies, and one spoonful of dough. No sense in wasting good cookies just cause my husband doesn't appreciate them. Repeat that once again after dinner. I never get tired of cookies.
Yesterday I baked the remaining cookie dough right before my nephews were coming over, that way I had a reason not to eat all of them myself. In the interest of sharing I saved cookies for everyone else. That left me with only two cookies for yesterday. :(
In spite of my all cookie, all the time diet I've actually lost ten pounds with regular exercise. If I don't exercise everyday then I feel massive amounts of guilt for my cookie consumption. But I've managed to exercise consistently for the entire month of July. That's a new record for me.
I ran a mile both Saturday and Sunday (may not sound like much, but I've got to start somewhere!). Then on Monday I set off on my run with the best of intentions. It was oatmeal cookie day so I had some compensating to do.
I was in the home stretch, which just happens to be in front of Walmart. My stepsister pulled up next to me, looking at me like I was crazy. To be fair, she's probably never even seen me attempt exercise in the last 15 years. I told her I had an invite to Ava's birthday for her. She should come to my house to get it. But I'm not at my house. I'm in front of Walmart. So drive me home in the meantime.
How lazy am I that I hitched a ride home for a quarter of a mile? I should've had her drop me off out of sight of my front door so I could've just acted like I had run the whole time.
When I came in the front door with a stupid looking smile on my face David was already suspicious. I confessed that I'm an exercise cheater. I'm willing to eat the cookies but when it comes time to burn them off I'm not nearly as devoted.
I can't help it. I feel no loyalty to exercise. What has it ever done for me? But cookies on the other hand, they have a special place in my heart. They've been there through thick and thin. Through the ups and downs. They have never let me down. I can always count on cookies, as long as I don't have to count their calories.