So earlier today I'm watching the videos of our band rehearsals for the upcoming Heritage Farm Fall Festival (Sept. 26 from 11 a.m. to 4 p.m. at the Eaton, N.Y. farm -- don't miss it!) and realizing I may have gained a few pounds since last year's event. Even though I'm rationalizing to myself that video cameras add a couple hundred pounds, I'm thinking maybe I should cut out some of the pizzas and wings at least until the Fest is over to trim down a bit.
Then tonight I go to edit Matt's business story for tomorrow's paper, and he's done a graphically mouthwatering review of the new local pizza place. My hands start trembling and sweat hits my brow as I'm reading the descriptions of the succulent toppings and secret recipes used by the pizza artisans in crafting their palette-pleasing pies. But I resist the urge to drown my sorrows with a sinful meat lovers stuffed crust until the tempter decides to tell me his weekend plans -- he's heading out to Buffalo for the chicken wing festival.
I fall off the wagon hard and bounce to the local pizza place. The score is now pizza 1, me 0. But tomorrow is another day.
To be continued next blog.