With one flat foot on the devil's wing

It seems more and more these days as if I'm running just to keep up with myself, not to get anywhere. I enjoyed watching Over the Hedge last weekend with my mom and sister, and my favorite part was when RJ says, in reference to a woman on some exercise equipment, "That gets rid of the guilt so they can eat MORE FOOD!" I laughed, but then I realized, it's true. Occasionally, I feel a twinge of enjoyment when I run, but most of the time, I feel guilty about whatever it is I've eaten (usually fried, and frequently a potato product), and so I atone with sweat. Like any respectable woman, I have issues with food, and they get worse around the holidays. Because, gosh darnit, I'm not good enough to get my cards out on time. Or to have thought ahead and bought the perfect gift for everyone. Or to eat f-ing carrot sticks and celery instead of cookies, cookies, cookies. I love cookies! But I also love fitting into my pants. This whole "balance" thing is hard. Life sucks. Now, where's my holiday Joe-Joe's?