Better Not Pout

I keep opening the fridge and the pantry, scanning the shelves, expecting what I want to magically appear.  What do I want?  Something sweet, but it's not there.  I still haven't had candy - it's Christmas Eve, and I've made it this far, so there's no stopping now.  Except that i don't really think I've curbed my sweet tooth much.  I've been eating pumpkin bread, cupcakes, frosting, scones, Pop Tarts like there's no tomorrow.  So what the hell is the point of cutting out chocolate, except to make myself crazy? 

You know that time in the morning when you resolve that THIS is the day you make changes, the first day of the rest of your brand-new healthy life?  I've had quite a few of those lately.  I see Oprah and Dr. Oz smiling from the bright yellow cover of her January issue, and i so badly want to believe that they can tell me how to remake my habits, cleanse myself of my dietary sins. 

Maybe they can.  Maybe they can't.  Maybe it doesn't matter what they advise, because what's really eating at me isn't found in a box or a grocery cart or a tree or a plot of soil.  It's all in my head, an endless loop of anxiety and perfectionism and melancholy, an inability to LET GO and just breathe.  It's Christmas Eve, for Frosty's sake!  I'm putting this out there, into the universe, hoping that I can give myself a break and just enjoy the next few days.  There's a lot of pressure to be "in the Christmas Spirit," and if you're just not quite feeling it, you feel like there's something wrong with you.  I am trying to keep Christmas in my own way, even if I haven't quite figured out how yet.