It is one thirty in the morning, and, as I was in bed awake, I thought to myself "Hey, I'd like a pack of Oreos." So, I got up and had a pack of Oreos. (They come six to a pack. No, I don't share with Epona.)
And now I'm feeling Oreo remorse.
My eating is spiraling out of control. The only thing keeping it in check, I think, is the daily exercise routine that I actually managed to start. But I'm not losing anything; I'm just maintaining the round weight I have already achieved. (definately a round number)
The intuitive eating side of me is telling me "Who cares? Eat the damn Oreo." The socially-molded side of me says "Don't eat that Oreo or you'll never be pretty."
The question is, I think, is can I be happy maintaining this weight? The exercise I am doing is bound to increase endurance increases, but who knows how long before weight becomes an issue with regards to that. Remember that three mile stuff from months ago? I think it is an utter fantasy that I will ever be RUNNING three miles a day.
Oreo remorse sucks.