Tonight is rough. It’s 2345, I ate ½ my “evening” meal so that I could have something to eat at 3am when I get hungry. Working 12hr nights is going to prove the hardest of my tests. There are platters of sugar cookies in all the ICU lounges put there by a generous supervisor on dayshift. Ugh, my nemesis is a cookie. I AM the cookie monster. I dream of cookies, think I am a cookie and had a long history with a dog named Cookie (of course I named it). So I took two. Just two little round, soft centered, perfectly sugared cookie.
As my teeth sunk into its delicately baked roundness I felt a twinge of guilt and a thought ran across my mind, I wasn’t even hungry. I wasn’t craving anything. I wasn’t supposed to put this cookie in my mouth. Drats, foiled again. I quickly assessed my emotion at the time I was chomping. I was happy, sideways happy.
You know the kind of happy that makes your mind skip like a five year old girl wearing a pink tutu. I posted up my concern on my Facebook page and T. P. (my dear friend) told me not to beat myself up too much that it takes time to break old habits. I’ve heard it takes twenty-one days, so here I go!!
I liked that feeling of sideways happiness. It freed me to go ‘skipping’ along doing good work with an inside smile on my face. Something as small as a cookie had me giddy with a carefree attitude, so now to harness that feeling in other activities instead of using food to obtain that same state of mind (but sometimes a cookie will do).
I’m going to make it. I can feel it! Start the burn!
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