Chalk one up for lack of confidence.

I really didn't think I'd be able to get through the day without a candybar or a cookie or something. Not because I can't go a day without sweets, but because I didn't think I'd be able to do it knowing I wasn't allowed to have sweets.

That's kind of the way I work. Tell me it can't be done, or even better, shouldn't be done, and I'll work it out. Tell me I can't do it, and I'll prove you wrong. This can work to my advantage sometimes. But then, at times like this when I want to do something by telling myself I can't, well, you see the problem.

Three weeks ago my doctor suggested (which is medical-speak for "ordered upon pain of death") I quit drinking so much coffee. He said five or six cups a day might be contributing to my high blood pressure. We discussed my routine and agreed 30 minutes of running every morning should be sufficient exercise. My persistent high blood pressure could possibly be linked to my caffein intake.

We had eliminated salt long ago, since I don't eat a lot of salt. I do, now, watch my sodium consumption. Those prepackaged foods are laced with the stuff!

So anyway, as of three weeks ago I cut back to one cup of coffee each day.

One.

The first week was pretty bad, exhaustion-wise. I didn't crave it too much after the first day. I had resigned myself to the new order. Besides, it was doctor-ordered.

This sweets embargo is my own doing. I have already discussed Mr. Jigglesworth. But his companionship is not only unsightly, its unhealthy. I want a strong, lively heart; not the type that stops beating and grows cold. A man carries his heart disease around his waist.

I'm trying.

I made it through this second day without a 3 Musketeers Bar or a cookie with my Wendy's lunch. I'm not fooling myself into believing I have it licked. This is only the second day. There are many more stretching out before me.

I'll try.