My Achilles' Heel

I, like every person in the world at this time of year, have set a goal to eat healthy. For the most part, it hasn't been too hard. This may, however, be facilitated by the fact that unlike many others, I didn't set the goal on the first of January. I set it yesterday, and so far I have been doing swimmingly.

Then this morning someone brought in pastries. Not just any pastries. Pastries from La Madeleine bakery. Whenever this happens, there are always several left over, and they sit in the break room all day and wait like evil little temptresses. Pastries, in case you didn't know, are female. In the past, especially while I was pregnant and craved pastries 16 hours per day, I deceived myself into thinking pastries aren't that bad for me. It's just bread, right?

Then one day I saw a special on PBS about bakers. It showed the baker making pastry dough from scratch. Imaging my surprise when he put the hugest glob of butter I have ever seen into the bowl. In case you didn't know, pastries are about 80% butter. Kind of ruined it for me.

So this morning, I am proud to say, that for the first time in my life I passed on a pastry. All day long I avoided them and now all the good ones are gone, so I think I'm in the clear. Now all I have to do is keep myself from going home and sucking on a cube of butter. Baby steps.