Sneaky Snacks

Snacks are that special something that I hate to love. Snacks are my enemy that I can't seem to get enough of. Snacks are like a secret agent who infiltrates the thickest web of secret service and somehow finds its way in the middle of the oval office staring at the president. Snacks sneak. They hide in the darkness and whisper in your ear, telling you to walk zombiefied to the pantry and the fridge and just look. There's no harm in looking, right? Yes, a snack is my kryptonite. I must regain my power over the snack. I must arm it with some kind of proximity alarm system so when it comes near, my common sense will be alerted and I can protect myself from the incoming snack attack. When all is said and done, my alarm is me, I am allowing myself one snack per day. I have it sitting in front of me. Its a small bowl of pretzels. When its gone, its gone. No seconds or convincing myself a tuna fish sandwich with bacon is in fact a snack and not a meal...because in order for it to be a meal you'd need some chips or a side of fries, right? EEEEEK!!! It's scary how some thoughts can help justify things! I've been going without an evening snack for a couple of days. I must say I am incredibly hungry when I go to bed. Yeah, I know I'm complaining a little bit. Maybe if I continue going snackless, the hunger will go away and I'll stop whining...