Since when did an attempt to lose weight include philly steaks and cheese fries?

I seem to be doing everything just right in my annual springtime attempt to ditch 8 lbs. Burgers: check. Takeout chinese: check. Margaritas, homemade cookies, potato chips, pancakes, bacon, Starbucks, fried mushrooms - I mean, I don't even LIKE most of those things most of the year, but all of a sudden, since deciding summer (and swimsuit season) was slightly too imminent given the circumference of my hips: I'm eating like a bachelor with an 8 year-old's metabolism.

Since when did I get cravings for mushroom cheese steaks? And did I just hear my own voice saying, "Mmmm, cheese fries!!!"

The jeans are hard to button these days as it is, why am I making 10pm s'mores over the stove burners and acting like provolone (by the handful) is a guilt-free snack? This is getting ridiculous. As it is, my fantastic springtime clothes are laying in heaps around the bedroom smirking at me - "So you think you wanna wear ME today? Mwuahahahaha - how'd those nachos taste last night, hmmm?"

Fine, fine, I've relegated myself to another few weeks of ill-fitting jeans and hide-it-all black v-necks...

I've stocked up on tuna, salmon, bell peppers, cucumbers, snap peas, broccoli and flavored waters, so why am I still rummaging through the fridge for that last tablespoon of peanut butter, or "cleaning the cupboards" to find the stale tortilla chips?

It must stop. As of today I begin - in earnest - Heather's Summertime Swimsuit Slim-Down. 8 lbs doesn't seem like such an insurmountable hurdle...a pound or so a week and the weather around these parts should just be getting nice about the time I'm stepping on the scale feeling something other than trepidation.

I just have to guard myself against the Sour Patch Kids.

Cheese fries??? I don't even LIKE cheese fries. Sheesh.