Okay . . . I'm having a moment and I'm thinking that maybe blogging about it might help. So I'm sitting here at work, not incredibly motivated to do much today, had a pretty big (compared to usual) yet healthy lunch so I'm feeling full. I'm finishing up my second 32 oz. glass of water and I have about an hour before I leave to workout and then go home for the day. Yay healthy choices!

But, my husband just called me and told me that he needs to start looking for a job . . . (I'll spare you all the details) . . . he was asked by his boss to respond to a request from HR about why he was so upset after a meeting this morning. Now this could just be HR making sure that an employee is doing okay, but I'm not buying that. So with his frustration level I can understand why he might think it's time to start looking.

So now I'm a little anxious, given this recent information. I don't think he'll lose his job anytime soon. He's got a very clean record in the three years he's been with this company. Of course my job isn't really as secure as it used to be, who's is in this economy? So I have a low-grade anxiety going on right now along with boredom/lack of motivation at work this afternoon. SUDDENLY . . . a large pepperoni and onion pizza for dinner sounds like the perfect idea right now! And the bargaining in my head has started to figure out how I can replace my planned chickpea burgers with tahini sauce with a large pizza and maybe a candy bar. This is insane!

So the moral of this story is that clearly I am a stress eater. The question is can I get past it today. And that's just for today. Tomorrow will be a new struggle. I don't think that I'll ever be able to say that I have this "food thing" beat. It's an addiction. Just like an alcoholic or any other substance abuser, I am powerless over food, my drug of choice. Just like an alcoholic or any other substance abuser, I have to make a decision every minute, every hour, every day to not give in to food. That kind of bites the big one. I don't like being an addict, but I am really convinced that I am. My relationship with food is killing me as surely as heroin or alcohol would . . . maybe a little more slowly, but just as dead in the end.

Unlike an alcoholic or any other substance abuser, I must eat to live . . . constantly tempted by my drug of choice. I think that's why this time around I'm hitting this with all the big guns. CK has been a great tool. And the support from the community is invaluable! My gastric bypass is another tool. I want everything working against my inclination to eat anything that's not nailed down. So bring on the tiny stomach pouch, the malabsorption of nutrients and the (ewwww) "dumping syndrome." I want to be miserable when I abuse my food. Enjoy life . . . yes. And food and drink are part of that . . . but everything in moderation.

Yikes. This was a real downer of a post. If you made it to the end, thanks for listening to my ramblings (Wouldn't a cookie taste good right now? I hear food packaging crinkling in the cube next to me. Nope. Not right now. I'm going to work out in half an hour.) I'm not saying that I don't want a pizza, because that's not true. I'm just saying that in this moment I think I can make it through my work day, workout, drive home and dinner without one. Tomorrow is another day.

Namaste.

18 lbs/42 days progress: -5.8 . . . 30 days to go.