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I pulled a stomach muscle today.

I did.

I think I have a hernia.

I’m in so much pain…

I’m clearly dying, call the Rabbi.

Now, I’d love to say it was from Pilates. Or doing sit-ups…or yoga. Fuck. I’d love to say it was from fucking. But I swear to Goddess, it’s from eating a Dunkin’ Donut. Whatever. Judge me. Do it! I wish I was kidding. I really do. But I’m not. Let me give you the low-down. I stopped at Dunkin’ Donuts on the way to therapy this morning, to get some coffee. Strange, I know. Not that I was going to therapy, but that I went to DD. I never go to Dunkin’ Donuts. I always go to Starbucks. First mistake. Huge mistake. But I was running late, which I also never do. So first off, I never run late. Number two, I never go to DD. And C, I was stupid enough to think I have will power. Shit. Will power. Who has it? Not me, dammit. And who the hell can walk into a Dunkin’ Donuts, and actually order coffee without ordering a donut? If you can, I hate you. You have will power. Good for you. Liar. You probably didn’t drink in high school, or do drugs in college either. Pat yourself on the back. You rock. Well, I’m not that girl. I just have to have the good stuff. And a Dunkin’ Donut is most definitely about as good as it gets. Sure, I wanted to order only coffee. I tried to, really I did. I looked at the girl behind the counter, (I swear, she was mocking me) and I said, “I’ll have a non-fat cafe au lait with a Sweet-n-low. Ohhhh, and a dozen donuts.”

Dammit.

I walked out of there with a dozen fucking donuts.

And ten Munchkins. Fuck me now. Like the dozen wasn’t enough? I had to get 10 more just for shits and giggles? It was like I felt bad for them, they needed a home. Please. I need to stop feeding my face. And my excuse was, “Oh, they’re for the boys.” Right. I got into the car, set them down on the floor in the back seat, behind me. Purposely, so I couldn’t reach them. SO SMART. I started my car, and pulled out. My coffee next to me. I was safe. But shit, they smelled so good. And what if I just had one, little Munchkin? What harm would that do? I’m not saying a big donut! And I’m PMS-ing, I deserve one. It’s been a shitty-week, kids have been home…a million and one reasons why I should have one of those Munchkins.

And the next thing I know, I’m reaching behind my seat…and trying with all my might to grab the bag of Munchkins that has now slid to the opposite side of the car! Shit!! But I’ve totally convinced myself that it’s ok to have one, right? So I must….reach….the….bag…of…Munchkins! OMG. I am going to crash this car over a flippin’ bag of donuts. So, to save my life, and the lives of all the other drivers on Providence Road, I make the only safe decision. I will just eat a Blueberry Cake Donut. I stop at a red light, reach down like a normal, human being…and OUCH! Shit!¬†What the hell? Omg. I pulled something in my stomach. Reaching for that stupid donut. For real. Don’t get me wrong, I ate it. And it was damn good. But now, I’m in pain. All kinds of pain. And was it worth it for a Blueberry Cake Donut? Let me think about it…YES! Hell, YES! But now I am left with a sharp-shooting pain in my abdominal region. And it’s not from the carbs, ok? I know that’s what you’re thinking…all you work-out people. That, “Carbs are the DEVIL”. Jesus. It’s from reaching, and stretching for that damn donut.

Serves me right, I guess. But isn’t life too short to not eat something yummy when you want it? Everything in moderation, right? Taste something a little bad for ya. Skip a workout. Stay in bed a little later than usual. Kiss that guy on the first date. Enjoy it, and don’t beat yourself up afterwards. Will power is awesome, but so is letting go sometimes, and just living in the moment. Eat that donut if you want it. After all, it’s just a donut. A yummy, sticky….deliciously-bad-for-you donut. Who’s watching? Who really cares? And why do you care who cares, or who’s watching? haha.

I mean, doesn’t being bad every now and then, feel just a little bit….good? Oh, and just so you know, I’ll be at Pilates tomorrow morning at ten. I actually ate 2 donuts. And 3 Munchkins. Phew, I feel so much better. The first step is admitting. ;)

 

xo j

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