Yeah, it’s been awhile. I would love to write that since I last posted that everything is under control and going great. But then my nose would grow and that would be an unflattering look for me. Oh, that horrific test I had to have? Waste of time. I can now block the entire experience out of my mind. Oh wait, I can’t, because no one forgets an anal probe that lasts over half an hour. Now I’m beginning to wonder if I was with actual human medical staff or aliens. Huh. Anyway, I have been very busy professionally. And trying to get my eating back under control. One of my doctors is delightful. Really, it’s just me with a white coat and a medical degree. Well, I assume he has a degree. I haven’t asked to see it. And frankly, I don’t care. He’s hilarious. I bring him cookies and we talk about how to get me to stop eating. Eating what I shouldn’t that is. But really, I kind of wish sometimes I could stop eating. When I was moderating the bariatric support group last week I was looking at the shiny, hopeful faces (shiny because it’s hot out, and they’re morbidly obese, hey, I’ve been there). Surgery, diets, pills, nothing short of wiring your jaw shut (does anyone know someone who does that? I think I’m interested) will stop you from eating what you shouldn’t. The desire lives. It lives inside of me like a raging monster. Yesterday I fed the monster. With crackers. Something I should never, ever do. Even though crackers are like manna from heaven they are just carbs. Crispy, delicious carbs. And I have come to find out that I am not just a food addict, but a carbohydrate addict. Refined sugars and carbs trigger something in my brain. No, really. I wouldn’t make this up. If I can get off the good time carbo highway then the craving diminishes. I mean, it never really goes away, does it? No. And it never will. But anyone who has quit alcohol or nicotine knows it takes at least three weeks to get the craving to reach a level they can handle. I continue to fail. I can’t seem to get through the three weeks. And I start over every day, every hour. Now I’m not morbidly obese anymore. Actually, I was super morbidly obese. I’m not that either. But I’m not where I want to be. And anyone who has spent time with me knows I don’t like to be out of control. As a matter of fact, everyone knows I am The Decider. No matter what you heard from anyone else. It’s me. I make the decisions, I tell you what to wear, I tell you what to eat (but in a less threatening way than how all that just came out). Yet, The Decider is cursed. As a believer in fairy tales, I will continue to try to break this curse. As of today, I have been carb free all day long. The only problem is I’ve only been awake an hour.