So the cookies are here (along with 3 pecan tartlets and a carmel apple pie), and I feel no guilt over ordering these things. I've polished off one tartlet and 2 cookies already with a glass of milk. No guilt at all. Yet, I wish there was. I have reached my "threshold weight", which is a number on the scale that once I see it I am supposed to say, "Get ahold of yourself, woman!", and put an immediate stop to the behavior that will cause me to cross that threshold. But this time the shouting in my head is half-hearted; just a monotone (think Ben Stine-ish voice here) "stop. no. don't." Now I'm thinking more along the lines of, there are worse things than being chubby.
Like not eating cookies.