The beer in my fridge that I’m not drinking

The yummy, yummy beer in my fridge

The yummy, yummy beer in my fridge

Whooo, that was close. I was about to eat the pizza from Sherrill that I’d had in the freezer since last week, and my eyes fell on the beer in the fridge. And the part of me that’s been mostly subdued since April took the opportunity to launch an attack. I tried to convince myself that, since I’d done such an excellent job on my diet this week, I deserved to drink some of that beer with my pizza.

It was touch and go there for a minute. All I could think of was how good the beer would taste with the pizza, and how I could afford the extra intake after having lost about three pounds this week.

Then the part of me that set my goals and limits rallied. I thought of how I’d just had beer during my celebration on Wednesday, and how invested I am in being as lean as possible when I hit Acadia in late September. Most importantly I though “This was not the deal. You get beer only during your weight benchmark celebrations.”

And I closed the refrigerator door.


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