I fell off the wagon. And then I choked on it.

So I fell off the wagon today. I always justify it by telling myself that I have no other vices ( I don't smoke, drink or have a sex addiction. Anymore) so this is really the only pleasure I get. The saying "Nothing Tastes As Good As Thin Feels" is bullshit. Feeling thin is nice, but c'mon....Ruggles M & M cookie dough ice cream with chocolate syrup and whipped cream versus.....thin....

Ruggles wins. Hands down, every time. Maybe it's just that my motivation for losing weight isn't what it was. I used to try to lose weight so I could look hot when I was out with my friends and trying to catch the attention of that cute guy on the other side of the bar. You know, the one with the jet black hair and piercing blue eyes. He would be talking to his buddies and glance over, holding his gaze a little too long before he looked away. I would boldly stare back, "Yeah....I'm lookin at you, baby. Come to Mama."

Now I just want to depuff my middle aged face and get into my black pants for work. I'm in a bit of a quandry, though, because I'm totally disgusted that I can't fit into any of my clothes and yet, I feel so much sexier now. I love my Rubenesque curves and I long for some starving artist to ask if he can paint me in the nude.

I have friends who get a little shy around their significant others when they're feeling a little less than confident with their bodies. I've never had that problem. For some reason, I feel completely confident when I'm naked as a jaybird.

My friend Debbie has a Dream Book and likes to analyze dreams. I've told her that I often dream about being naked. She says that in the dream once I realize I'm naked and quickly try to cover up, that it means I'm feeling vulnerable about something. The only thing is, I do go around oblivious to the fact that I'm naked but once someone points it out, I look down and say, "Yeah! Look at me....." and then I strut away. Debbie can't find that entry in her Dream Book.

Back to falling off the wagon. I ate my healthy, fat free lunch in the cafeteria where everyone could see how well I was adhering to my diet. I was craving something sweet when I got back to my office so I walked in and very quietly pulled open my top drawer to get out the Tootsie Roll I had stashed behind the White Out. I slowly slid the drawer closed again and reached for my scissors so I could cut the top of the wrapper instead of tearing it. Cutting is much quieter than tearing. I slid the Tootsie Roll out and mouthed the words "Come to Mama" to my chocolate treat. (Wow, that didn't sound right...)

As I took the second bite, I felt a tiny amount of spit go "down the wrong pipe" and I stifled a cough, not wanting to get busted cheating on my diet.

It was no use, I would have to cough louder. It was hard to cough with a large wad of chocolate in my mouth but I didn't want to spit it out.

My coughing turned to choking sounds.

"Are you okay?" Lori, outside my office said in a concerned voice.

"Yea..."I sputtered. Still not wanting to waste the Tootsie Roll in my mouth, I continued to attempt to get the spit out of my windpipe as I gasped for air and shifted the chocolate from cheek to cheek.

"She doesn't sound okay." I heard Debra push her chair back so I spit the candy in my wastebasket, sure she was on her way in to save me.

By now, my face was bright red, there were tears rolling down my face and Debra was next to me yelling, "Hold your arms up! Hold your arms up!"

Lori stood in the doorway, "Oh my gosh, she's really choking. Should we do the Heimlich?"

I was alternately gasping for air and laughing at the idiocy of my situation.

"What was it you choked on?" Debra asked as she handed me some water.

"I was eating an almond and it must have gone down the wrong pipe," I lied to them. I'm allowed 12 almonds a day.

I think I'll bring an apple tomorrow for when I'm craving something sweet.