It is seriously taking every thing in my power to not go to the store right this very second to get ice cream. I want it. I want it bad. I want something with chunks in it (maybe Ben&Jerrys Mint Chocolate Cookie?) that I can dig out with my spoon as I sit nestled into the corner of the couch watching The Good Wife.
I think I want the sugar. I probably want the ritual. I know I want it more than the popsicle I have as a substitute in the freezer.
I’m trying to remind myself that there are other things, better things, that I want more.
Speed when running.
A lower cholesterol reading.
Some lower numbers on the scale.
Excuse me as I go get my popsicle…