Do you ever wake up and realize you were on a long, steep, slippery slide back to Fatville? You know the place, where you get buttered popcorn at the movies and then stop at some crappy drive-through on the way home? Where you sit on the couch for two hours, eating cookies and watching The Biggest Loser? Where you wake up to go to the gym, but decide the bed warmth is too delicious to leave?

Welcome to my world.

For the past ten days, I’ve been free-falling down that slide. First, I maintained my weight for two weeks. It was stressful at work and I didn’t have time for the gym or anything else, really. Maintaining is fine. I can handle maintaining at 86.2 pounds lost.

But then Halloween hit.

And my parents came to visit, which happens about once a year, for two nights, tops. They’re kind of like leprechauns. You never know when you’ll see them, but it’s always just for an instant.

So no gym. And there were two parties. And puff pastry. And candy. And cheese. And lots of wine. Lots. Too much. And lovely tiramisu at the Rotunda in Neiman Marcus.

But wait, there’s more. I just kept going. I had buttered popcorn. And we stopped at Taco Bell (on another night). And I roasted a chicken last night and ate a Shrek-sized portion. And yes, we made cookies. And I shoveled those into my gob.

Not to mention the 130 calories worth of dark chocolate pudding I hoarked in anger. Don’t ask. It was spiteful eating (I’ll eat this so he won’t get any!). Which, of course, was ridiculous.

You sure showed *them*.

Today I begin detox.

Detoxing my mind, my body.

Day #1: No sugar, no alcohol. And get thee to the gymmery.