I have always sucked at moderation.
I don't know if you know this about M&Ms, but if you buy them in the plastic pound bag they're crunchier than in the small paper ones. And so I always buy the pound bags. I mean, when I buy them. Which, usually, is almost never.
Because. Because if I'm going to eat M&Ms, I'm going to eat the entire bag. Even if it means putting it across the room and then getting up every 30 seconds to get another handful. Even when I feel completely ill. If there are still some left, I'll keep eating. Honestly, I've gotten up ten times so far while writing this.
At work I can give them to a coworker to hold. Someone who won't just give them back if I come ask in five minutes. But at home, I'm screwed.
I had a coworker who said her sister would eat one peanut M&M after lunch every day. ONE. What on earth might be the point? And can she crack walnuts with her sphincter?
This lack of moderation comes out in everything - relationships, food, alcohol, exercise, you name it.
My dad emailed me earlier to say that it sounded like I'd really drunk a lot in New York.
And it's true. I drank a lot. Three glasses of wine out with the Dementor Wednesday, two cocktails with him Thursday. Friday, thankfully, was a one-martini night. And then my Saturday, well, you heard about my Saturday. My date and I split two bottles of wine at the wine bar and dinner, and then had several more glasses at various locations. We drank our way through lower Manhattan, it turns out.
And so I feel like I need to add moderation to my list of 2007 resolutions. Because I am just so dramatically not good at it.