Diet fail

It would just about kill me each time I did Weight Watchers meetings when they would give us "tips" for staving off the cravings.

Sweets, for example:

Wait ten minutes.
Drink water.
Chew gum.
Have a small piece of hard candy - preferably sugar-free.
Brush your teeth.
Go for a walk.

And that's supposed to cure it.

Unfortunately, when I'm craving an entire pan of brownies, I know exactly what I want:

An. Entire. Pan. Of. Brownies.

The heavy, fudgy brownies.

Not a piece of gum.
Certainly not a bottle of water.
And not a piece of sugar-free candy (sugar, at this point, is kind of the point).
If the walk would put me closer to the pan of brownies, sure - I'd go for a walk.

And even though I KNOW that there is no pan of brownies hidden in my apartment, I will prowl my kitchen - around and around and around, opening the fridge and the cupboards, closing the fridge and the cupboards, and staring, disappointed, because a pan of brownies did not magically appear in the fridge or cupboards in the fifteen seconds it took me to make a(nother) lap of the kitchen.

The occasional benefit of this is that I sometimes give up waiting for Kitchen Alchemy, and I decide instead to water my plants, wash my dishes, catch up on journaling ... read the book that's taking forever to get through (I finally finished "Founding Mothers," for the record. Fascinating book that I'll have to read again because I forgot half of it in the time it took me to read it).

But it's inevitable that I will, within an undetermined span of time, wander - innocently - back toward the fridge ... hoping, hoping, hoping that the brownies will be there. Or a cake. I'd take a cake.

(For the record, when I'm sane, Weight Watchers really is a fantastic, feasible program. I owe them a lot of credit)