Seriously Now

I have completed week one of my diet, which I have entitled the:


A Doughnut Is Not Worth Dying For Diet


I don't even like doughnuts, but I ate one last Monday morning. I didn't want to. It was stale. But, it was there and I ate it. Actually, there were FOUR doughnuts, but Daughter ate one, and Nephew Chris ate the other two. I forced him to. Told him he had to do it to save my life.



I haven't had anything with measurable sugar in it since.



Just for the record, that means I did NOT eat ANY Halloween candy. No peanuts mixed with candy corn. No pumpkin cut-out cookies. Nada.



My cousin gave me a One Touch Ultra2 that I can use to record my blood sugar levels and store them on my computer.



They aren't good. My blood sugar levels, that is.



I have been CLOSELY monitoring myself. So much so that it hurts to use the keyboard, as I have been stabbing myself a great many times per day.



So this is what I can report after one week:



It doesn't appear to matter what I eat. How often I run up and down steps. How many 'happy thoughts' I fill my brain with.



My blood sugar levels seem to be totally at the mercy of my hormones. And presently they are not merciful girls.



When I want to sleep, they say 'NO! Stay up and read!' So, I listen to them. Then, when I want to get up in the morning, they say 'NO! Stay in bed and sleep!'



I try to get them to give up caffeine and they say 'NO! We need caffeine so we can stay up late and read!' So, I give them caffeine and yet they still will not shut up! All night long, they jump around inside my brain saying wonderful things like 'do let's be worrisome and frightful and keep this woman on the edge of sanity!'


Tonight the merciless girls got together. One of them must have remembered that it had been awhile since a truly noteworthy headache had been passed out to me.


'Let's give her an headache tonight!' - one cried with delight! 'Oh, do let's!' - cried her demented sister.


They called all of the merciless sisters and told them to put on their spikiest heels and to dance their most rhythmic dance upon my hapless brain - while singing "American Pie".



And now I know why my blood sugar rises while I sleep.



It's the merciless girls. They are up all night sipping margaritas, mainlining koolaide, snorting white sugar and most likely sniffing glue.



I've tried ignoring them, hoping they would go away.



But whenever they go away, they nail all of the windows shut and turn up the thermostat.



And to think we used to be such good friends.