After a bit of a week at work, I indulged in more Bad Snacking yesterday than I should have. Definitely not sticking to the plan outlined at the beginning of the day.
So that was not great. But — I did log it. It doesn’t look great on me. It’s not a good look. And logging “peanut butter” is a bit more clinical than “eating peanut butter out of the jar with a spoon”, which is the brutal truth.
Lucky for me there was very little peanut butter left in the jar.
(also: what is it with peanut butter? It’s like a genetic trigger or something. I love the stuff).
So I’m a bit disappointed by the snacking, but a bit proud of the logging. Note that the pride in the logging does not okay the snacking. They’re two siloed pieces of shame and pride. Logging the snack does not approve the snack.
(Culturally, I feel like at some point it became okay for people to be jerks if they pre-emptively disclaimed their jerkitude. It’s still not okay to be a jerk.)
I’m gonna have to log everything if this is going to work. That’s all there is to it. The urge to not log means I’m ashamed, and when the shame silo is filling up with… disappointment wheat… that means it’s time to take that disappointment wheat and bake it into self-examination bread. And cut off a hearty slice of self-examination bread and slather it with insight butter. And eat that. And log it.