My Revenge

The Girl Scout Cookies may have won the battle, but I won the war. Thankfully, yesterday an intervention came in the form of my dry skin.
I was putting lotion on my legs when I became acutely aware of the muscle in my right calf. It was flexed because I had my foot up on my dresser to put the lotion on, and the thought that came to mind was, and I quote: "Holy Shit, girl, that is TIGHT!!!" (Tight being the word my students have been using to describe something that is so beyond cool that it is not cool anymore, but tight.)
It was quite a revelation, because it may have been the first time that I have become aware of part of my body and had a positive reaction to it. I came out of my cookie coma right then, and said to myself, "Melissa, you are NOT going to let this happen. Get your shit together THIS INSTANT and go to the gym." And I went. Not only that, I walked there, worked out, and walked home.
I kept thinking about the cookies, though. There was still 1/2 a box of the peanut butter Do-si-dos beckoning to me seductively. (Serving size: 1 tube. Calories: 550.) So this morning, I put them down the disposal. At $4.00 a box, that was two dollars I just threw down the drain. Literally.
So next year, I will recognize the girl scouts for the crack-pushing, cellulite whores that they are. I will not buy cookies, and if I feel I must donate money, I will remember that it's better to just give it to them directly than to put it down the drain. I have fond memories of my own girl scouts experiences, and my leader was one of the strong women who became my role models as an adult. Which is why I end up buying the cookies every year. BUT NO MORE!! Hear me, girl scouts? Hear me, fat cells? I WIN!!!!!