My weight has been steady for the past two years, but I really want to lose just a little more. I think I have a reasonable expectation for what my weight should be, based on my height and age. I'm not shooting for some crazy, pre-babies goal. I don't even want a toned body. That would require a level of ambition and commitment that has escaped me for...well, my entire life. I just want to schlep less flab when I'm dragging the garbage cans up the driveway.
So, this is a pretty straight-forward message, don't you think? I taped it to the door of the primitive cabinet that serves as my pantry. Pantry is such an inclusive word. This is, more specifically, the cereal and snacks cabinet. It houses everything salty or sweet. Chips, cookies, crackers, fruit snacks, popcorn-if it tastes good, and requires no refrigeration, it lives in here.
The pantry is the first stop after school for my children and their friends, my father-in-law when he has a chocolate craving, and my brother, whenever he visits.
"We don't have anything like this at our house," he mumbles through a mouth full of cookies.
I don't mind sharing. But I drew the line at the Thin Mints.
So, I posted the sign where it would do the most good. But my brain got confused. It read the numbers, but misunderstood the required action.
"5 pounds, 10 weeks," it thought. "What does that mean? She practically lives in the kitchen, typing away on her computer. She must want to be closer to the food. Plus, it's winter, and she's always cold. She must want more fat to keep her warm! She wants to GAIN five pounds! No problem!"
Now, to be fair, my brain has some previous experience with compulsive behavior. More than once I've vowed to do the right thing, only to be led down a path of ill-repute, or in this case, high-caloric content. So, I've decided to be more direct, and talk to my brain the same way I talk to the boys.
The fact that it looks like I handled it with greasy hands isn't helping the message. But I'm going to give it a few days and see if it works. Because my next step involves duct tape, and I really don't want to go there.
Is your brain being uncooperative?