How do I cope with that awful moment when the bathroom scales show a sad truth! The five pounds I struggled to lose last spring have returned and brought along fifteen close friends. I should've known Saturday when I donned a pair of long jeans not worn all summer. They were more than just a little snug. I blithely concluded the dryer had snapped the denim fabric a little tight and would soon adjust back to my "voluptuous curves". Since I do know better than to step on scales wearing heavy denim, I avoided the weighing until this morning. There they were; glaring at me with wicked condemnation!
Just when I am in the mood to bake Autumn favorites and curl up with a blanket and a good book, I find myself planning the trip to the gym and counting calories. Why does pie always have more of the creeping little bundles of energy than the crisp apple? Who ever determined that calories were "measurements of energy"? Why don't I feel particularly energetic after I devour half a loaf of freshly baked pumpkin bread? I fear these questions have no good answers. Hmmm, the dog seems to be getting a little chunky, too. Maybe we better go for a walk!
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