A co-worker and I were sharing all our stupid little food tricks: tuna from the can on a slice of wheat bread folded over with hot sauce (mine); grape nuts with spices instead of croutons (hers); Tasty Bite (mine); protein powder in orange juice (hers); when I stopped and chuckled.

I don't eat food normally anymore. This stupid gym challenge changed me. I pick off most of the cheese now, I find creative ways to eat tuna, I can hold an intelligent conversation about liquid egg whites, complex carbs, and glycogen.

Tonight I went out of my way to order salmon for dinner but I didn't opt for the fries or the Caesar Salad to go with it, which I always ordered before. I weighed the options and I chose a tiny beer. In other words, I negotiated calories with myself and I didn't even notice. At least, not until much later.

I was in a funk this morning that I didn't really snap out of until I went to the stupid gym.

Gah. What's happening to me?

And then I went and did something dumb. I agreed to set a new goal for myself: lose 8 pounds in the next month. If I hit that weight, it'll be like stepping in a time machine to 7 years ago, right after Jer and I started dating and we were in that music video with Vertical Horizon (and about a hundred other people.)

Wow. Time flies when you're not dancing in slow motion in a short, black dress and being filmed under hot lights. It may as well be Y2K all over again.

I wonder if I still have that dress...