One day you (gasp!) don’t eat breakfast because you’re just not hungry.

The next day, you jump up and can’t wait to eat breakfast because you ARE hungry. Your body lets you know. It all sorts itself out.

One day you have Oreos for dinner. Just Oreos. The birthday cake kind (HOLY SHIZ PEOPLE WE NEED TO HAVE A DISCUSSION ABOUT THE BIRTHDAY CAKE OREOS BECAUSE IT’S LIKE BIRTHDAY CAKE FROSTING IN BETWEEN THE COOKIES!) and then the next night you have a little tenderloin, a little baked potato, and a gigantic spinach, strawberry and goat cheese salad.

What would it have looked like if I’d followed a diet plan? Probably the same, except instead of eating Oreos for dinner, I would have eaten the dinner I “should” eat (probably some sad little chicken breast or something), then I would have gone cruising for healthy snacks. Maybe some almonds… or cheese. Or apple with peanut butter. Then more peanut butter. Then I would have eaten the damn Oreos (except I probably wouldn’t have them in the house because they are forbidden, so I would have eaten anything else that wasn’t nailed down, and then gone to bed full, sick and not satisfied).

Instead, I went to bed satisfied and happy and… over the Oreos.

It kinda all balances out, you see? So instead of eating a bunch of food I didn’t even want to satisfy my urge to eat Oreos, I skipped all those wasted calories, ate Oreos until I’d had enough, and moved on with my life.

It’s a heretical idea, I know. Giving our body what it wants when it wants it instead of trying to trick it with something else.

Pooch-a-looch is smaller today.

Those Oreos were freaking unbelievable.