You may recall my run-in with creamsicle fudge at the holidays last December. I don’t know what it is that makes this taste combination so tempting for me. Maybe it’s the nostalgia, the memories of sticky, muggy summer days when I was a kid, running under the sprinkler and licking those cool and creamy orange and white bars.
The other day, I was dreaming of creamsicle again and a question hit me. Why am I still struggling with these cravings? WHY? I’m over five years into weight maintenance and this stupid stuff is still a problem for me. Shouldn’t I have it all handled by now?
You can see it in the ads for the popular weight loss programs, and it doesn’t matter which program we’re talking about. Weight Watchers, Jenny Craig, Nutrisystem. What they all have in common are the jubilant pictures of their success stories, the people who have lost a bazillion pounds and have their weight “handled.” Folks who proudly proclaim that they will never be fat again.
Anyway, back to creamsicles. I think I might be going through the five stages of creamsicle grief:
- Denial: I have evolved beyond such non-food as creamsicles.
- Anger: Damn you Evil Food Industry, why do you even make this addictive crap?
- Bargaining: If I run a couple extra miles this week, can I have a creamsicle cone as a reward?
- Depression: I. Can. Never. Have. Creamsicles. Again.
- Acceptance: Let’s see, acceptance means… um… uh… hmmm.
It seems I haven’t completed my mourning for creamsicles yet.