Self Talk

The door opens and I rehearse the list in my head:  brown rice, brownies, spinach and chips. Chips? Do I really want chips? Ya, I do. Nah, I don't need them. However as I near the snack aisle, I talk myself into buying the small bag of 40% Reduced Fat chips. Cape Cod. White bag. I see my future self rip open the bag and  handful after handful I place the crispy, just salted enough, thin slices of heaven on the food scale. I eat them all. And somehow the bag remains on the counter all night only to have snitched two extra chips. This is a food that is nearly impossible to moderate. One that I will weigh for the remainder of my days.