The last three weeks, I've been the guinea pig in a very unscientific experiment. The results: Definitely nothing new.
When I journal -- writing down all the foods I eat, the exercise I do, and my moods during the day, I make better food choices. Maybe it's because I don't want to write down the Twizzlers that are crossing my lips, because the reality of that would be too much to bear.
Not quite sure, but today I woke up, and the first thing I did was to dust off my journal -- which I didn't keep last week -- a week that was plagued with BAD food choices. Sure, we had lots of social occasions, but that's life. I ate my brother-in-law's birthday cake because it look too damn delicious to pass up. And then there was my niece, Elizabeth's, lemon bars, which I know first-hand are to die for -- literally and figuratively. Eat enough and they really could kill anyone.
And of course, those foods were just the tip of the proverbial iceberg.
So today, a Monday, I am once again determined to journal. I really do relate to the poor hamster who never makes any progress in the wheel. Just like the hamster, I'm stuck. I really hope this changes. Fast.
