To Be Thin, Or Not To Be Thin

I am currently a walking contradiction. I want to be thin, so I (and by I, I mean my boyfriend) spend ridiculous amounts of money on private pilates lessons, yet I counteract my hard work with copious (thanks dictionary.com!) amounts of junk food. I sweat my ass off doing exercises that work muscles in my body I didn't know existed, all while my sadist instructor reminds me to "push my tummy to the floor." I usually leave looking like I've just given birth (or how I assume a woman who has just given birth would walk).

And then on my way home, the little fat kid inside my head tells me that I deserve to eat something fried and yummy for all my hard work. The (former) skinny me makes her plea that my work-out will be lost if I eat fatty foods, and don't I want to be thin again? But the Fat Kid is waving a french fry at me! How can I resist french fries? And a cupcake too! And not just any cupcake, a Sprinkles cupcake (see: heaven in the form of frosting). I give in to my fat kid urges by settling on an apple pie from McDonalds (so, so delicious). I can't help but enjoy my 2 for $1 pastry goodness when Skinny Me delivers the fatal blow: the bitch pulls out a *gasp* two piece. Fuck...me.

Now I am at a crossroads. Do I trash the rest of my pie in favor of one day fitting into a two piece bathing suit again? Or do I finish the pie and promise to run the following day. The jew in me says to finish the pie, I paid for it! I sit there for a moment contemplating my next move. Must decide quickly, the apples are getting cold. I look at Skinny Me taunting me with the stupid bathing suit.Man, I want to fit into that damn thing. And then I look at the Fat Kid, who's so happy licking chocolate off his fingers.

And then I make my decision.

I swear I will run tomorrow.