Ah, the carefully prepared salsd, single serve of fat free yogurt, and the tiny protein shake so lovingly put in the adoreable shaker bottle. The egg whites laid lovingly over the one slice of gluten-free bread and 1/2 calorie 'butter'.... all that can just go to hell in the face of a work lunch from a pizza company and a family dinner at a favorite Mexican restaurant. Yes I had the sald from the pizza company, all three pounds of it fabulously smothered in Italian dressig. No, the dressing was not non-fat. And you bet, there was a fried banana drowned in whipped cream and creme fraiche at dinner. I have never been one to be proud of my Willpower. Nope. Never. Willpower and I admire each other from afar for the very vast differences between us. 'Tomorrow is another day' may in fact be my life's motto. And what a motto for a person who loves to fight her way through life knowing she is losing almost any batle before she starts it.  But here's the deal, dear Willpower; you owe me.Tthat's right. You owe me. You owe me my cute size eight jeans and my form fitting shirts. You have slacked on me so long that all the cute clothes live in a moldy box in the attic where they remain preserved only by a small, yet mighty, shred of hope. A hope that one day,dear Willpower, you will swoop in and finally take your postion on my shoulder where I need you to hold my hand still from repeated motions twards my mouth. And dearest Forethought, if you could just manage to step up and show up for the next thirty days and help me keep the stream of tidy little food containers coming filled with sensible protion of yummy as well as healthy foods, I would be ever so grateful. But should you stay away, you lazy beasts, be warned! The inner fire has been lit and Empowerment is bringing a Semi Truck loaded with fuel that will blast me to the gym tomorrow at 5:30 sharp, where your sorry little carcasses will be thrashed until you have been obliterated and rebuilt. You have been told, Willpower and Forethought. You have been warned.