They’re baaaaaaa-aaaaaack: the food dreams. With a twist.
Last night, I don’t even remember what I was illicitly eating in my dream when I reached the level of semi-consciousness where I realized I was dreaming. At that point, I immediately grabbed a bowl of whipped cream that appeared from nowhere and started eating it with a spoon. I could take or leave whipped cream in real life, so that was a surprising splurge! Haha.
This was the second night in a row of food dreams, but with different indulgences. I always hit this point when I start a new health routine. It’s not even just one point; it’s more like a starting point of what will be an intermittent pattern that continues indefinitely. Oddly, it seems to happen at times when I’m not having any waking cravings and am actually feeling pretty secure in my food and exercise choices. I usually feel insanely guilty when I wake up, before it hits me that the sinful eating I did in my dreams didn’t really happen. The best is when, like this morning, I become aware that I’m dreaming and I can go hog wild with no consequences.
The weird part about last night’s dream was that, before the whipped-cream plot twist, I had an internal struggle about an indulgence of a different kind: weighing myself. It’s always a bit of a challenge not to weigh in between my usual Sunday night times, and I confess that I do usually give in around Thursday. It’s been particularly challenging not to step on the scale this week, after annoyingly posting no weight loss at all last week. My next scheduled weigh-in is still 4 days away, and I feel like my body has made it over the week-2 slump and has responded well to my consistency with diet and the introduction of regular exercise. (I made it to the gym after work yesterday!) I want to wait until Sunday to see the progress, and I’m so hopeful for a big number to offset the stall from last week, but I’m being diligent with myself not to. If I can’t resist the damn scale, which should be an easy thing to resist because it’s THE ENEMY with a gremlin living inside it, how am I gonna say no to donuts and cookies and bowls of whipped cream?
Sooooo, I’m gonna ride it out. In the meantime, I’m trying to prepare myself for a possibly disappointing number on Sunday. I have to remember that the scale only tells me my relationship to gravity, not how I feel.
Unless it’s a big drop. 😉