Chronicles of a Late Bloomer

What could be more boring than reading someone else’s dreams? I mean, I’m a therapist, and I’m pretty good at dream interpretation, but still. Nothing could be more soporific than reading a dream.

Does that mean I won’t bother typing out last night’s imagery? No it does not. It just means that I’ll summarize it into four tidy sentences.

I was shopping at Lane Bryant. (Hiss.) None of the clothes fit right, and I kept telling myself that I should hold off on buying new clothes for a few months because I’d be smaller. Then, in the back corner, I found that they were selling cookies, cakes, brownies, pies, and other treats. Instead of buying clothes, I bought the treats and told the salesclerk that I didn’t care if it meant that I couldn’t buy the new clothes after all.

I guess the message that my brain is trying to send me is that I can’t have it both ways forever. I want to be better to my body, but I also want to be able to soothe it the old fashioned way — something with a rich chocolatey sauce and exotic nuts will usually do the trick, but in the end it will not help me achieve my purpose. I can still have the occasional treat, yes, but the daily treat game should probably cease for now. I’m done throwing my little pity party and I don’t need the chocolate crepes or waffle cones anymore.

Well, that’s one interpretation. It could also be that Lane Bryant will soon begin to sell cookies in order to keep us all shopping there ad infinitum. As marketing ploys go, it’s a bit ham-handed but it essentially serves the purpose. I digress.

Let’s just say that the first interpretation is more true. (If it’s not more true, it is at least more useful.) I know from experience that the longer I go without sugary desserts, the less I want one. This is what I keep telling myself as I slog through Day One: Dessert-less. Just for today, I will not eat dessert.