Don’t Let the Turkeys Get You Down
De Fluffing:Day 20
6 August 2012
This gal, Cranberry Sauce, and her friends Mashed Potatoes, Stuffing, and Pumpkin Pie, are chowing down in our front yard. Sure. The turkeys eat all they want. The Prince Consort and I watch them, as we count calories and restrict portions. And maybe doing just a little thinking about Thanksgiving dinner.
These aren’t the only turkeys that get me down while I’m dieting. I am an emotional eater. If I’m happy. Break out the Moonpies. If I’m depressed, I’ll find the Cheezits, and you’d better have a loaded gun if you think you’re going to stop me from inhaling them.
So this past week when I got a rejection from a publishing house I’d really hoped would buy my manuscript, I was in the Danger Zone. Toes on the edge of the precipice I’d thrown myself into over and over all my life. I was all ready to eat to soothe the hurt.
But then a little voice made it through the visions of Snack Paradise. Hand on the office door, I stopped and listened. A little voice said, “You, DUMMY! WHY on earth are you punishing yourself just because one publisher didn’t want your work?”
“Huh?” I hadn’t heard this before.
“WHY ARE YOU PUNISHING YOURSELF? Forget the comfort food. You know it’s just waiting to jump onto those hippo hips you’re toting around. Want those fat jeans to fit again? Think about something that will make you feel good for more than a minute.”
For once I substituted the vision of me back in jeans without a muffin top over the waist for the sight and smell of food nirvana. I did it. I didn’t let this Turkey, the rejection, get me down. I turned and went back to writing.
Okay, there is a catch. I don’t outline my book manuscripts. I’m what they call a ‘by the pants’ writer. Never knowing just what might come next in the book that is coming out of me. And boy did this one take an unforeseen turn. The daemons opened a cafe’. A successful one. And no, they are not poisoning the humans. Yep. They’re serving all those foods I can’t stuff into me. Pretty good huh?
So, I’ve kept on track for twenty days so far. TPC is helping by designing meals that are not so calorie heavy. And he found a walking track around a county pond that we both love walking each morning. He’s almost a foot taller than I, so I’m getting quite the work out keeping up with him.
He’s lost most of the gut he’d put on. I’m down a total of 6.5 pounds. Get ready jeans. I’ll be pulling you on any day now!
Kath: who is not pictured above, but is beginning to resent the masked Frontyard Gang for how they can be soooo cute and still stuff themselves, with sunflower seeds.
