A victim of the Siren's song.

Chocolate Overload Torte.

I have (nearly) a whole one of these in my refrigerator. Right now.

Jason brought it home from his job last night.

And I fell victim to it's Siren song.

I can't believe I'm admitting to this, but I feel so guilty it's got me being doubly vigilant today. I didn't even look at the nutritional information, because I knew it would make me not eat it.

I willfully sinned.

But, oh my gosh. It has to be the most delicious chocolate cake I've ever eaten. And, now that I've tasted it, I've gotten it out of my system. I can move on from here. Otherwise, I'd be thinking about it nonstop. It really is better this way.

I haven't made the best choices this week. I can make PLENTY of excuses - working until midnight on Friday, having to get the magazine out, Labor Day, having one less day to get my regular work PLUS a special hunting section done - but the bottom line is, I'm in charge of the choices I make. I can't chalk it up to anyone or anything else.

Therefore, when I go to weigh in tonight, I'll accept my fate. Asking for a miracle at the scale is a little bit like not studying for a test and then asking God to somehow make all that knowledge fall into your head.

(You know, I had a professor in college (it was a Christian college) who would pray before a test that if we hadn't studied, God wouldn't help us supernaturally remember the material.)

So, I'll go into that church gym tonight, resigned to take whatever is coming. If God has mercy on me (meaning either I maintain or don't gain too much) I'll be rightfully thankful. But, if the outcome isn't good, I'll not blame Him or anyone else.