Day Two Hundred Sixty-Six

My perniciously delicious bread

My perniciously delicious bread

Well, once again I did pretty well until my own creation turned on me. I blame Mary Shelley.

I got up at 5:00 and took my walk in the deep new snow. And I did not go back to bed afterward. I was tired, but I felt human. I hope this means that my body is getting used to the new schedule.

As I did my job-searching and budgeting and sundry tasks, I followed my diet well — right up until the time the bread came out of the oven. Then I started nibbling. By the time dinner came around, I’d already had far too much. Then I had another piece with butter and honey.

I need to find a way to limit myself on this bread, or I’m going to have to only make it on weekends. And that would be a shame, because it’s so easy and cheap! Maybe I can get in the habit of cutting it up into portions immediately after it comes out of the oven, and scheduling the eating of the portions.

Yeah. It does sound unlikely.

Well, let’s see, can I think my way out of this problem? Treat it like an addictive substance. What if I was manufacturing crack cocaine, and in order to keep making a profit I had to maintain strict control over my own…

No. That’s a bad metaphor. This bread is much better than crack cocaine.

I’m going to sleep on it. Good night.


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