OK. There was a number in my head that I told myself if I should hit when I step on the scale, then it's time for a change. Last night, I reached that number. Another indicator that everyone else is onto me: At work, I've got a reputation for being somewhat of a garbage gobbler. I'm constantly offered peoples' leftovers. I take 'em too! My coffee mug reads, "chocoholic".  When answering phone calls, I hope that the person on the other end can talk just long enough for me to finish my mouth-full of food, while I rest an undignified finger on the mute button. And it's like this all day every day. I raised a shitstorm yesterday when someone ate my ice cream sandwich. I said I was shocked at how rude someone could be to disregard my name written on it, you know, the principle of the matter. But truthfully, I just really wanted that ice cream. I do have a bit of a sweet tooth. I really love food! And lots of it!

It's not the look or the feel of being overweight that bothers me. I like a little extra chunk here and there. My main concern is the potential I have for diabetes. Unfortunately it's a big part of my family's history. It practically has its own seat at our Thanksgiving table. Not only that, but I have 2 herniated discs in my spine and having that excess heft can really exacerbate the pain, and it puts extra strain on these knees that are still trying to jog occasionally.

For someone who sits down all day at work, I think I stay pretty active when I'm not here. And although I could exercise a little bit more, let's see if we can improve the diet. I'll try to work on the cravings, but if you could do me this one favor from here on out I'd really appreciate it:

Buy me LIGHT beer only!



* Special thanks to Brian Babylon for calling me "fatso" and Josh Cheney for always pointing out how much I sweat (over the most non-strenuous tasks). You're both positive motivating forces in my life.