How did this come to a head on some sleepy Friday? (Or, Why the Internet Can Be Very Dangerous.)

I'm having what feels like a big moment.

I understand that idea that the big moments creep up on you while you're not forgetting the sunscreen on some idle Tuesday. In my mind, that always meant something very concrete. Getting hit by a car. Hitting a car. Finding out you're pregnant. Meeting someone who becomes a best friend or lover or the connection who gets you that job you always wanted.

Turns out they aren't always like that. Turns out they can happen right in your mind. Or in my mind anyway.

In my very own head, I unearthed this crossroads. A simple series of events snowballed into what feels like a defining moment. A moment that speaks to who I am on a very fundamental level.

I took some online surveys over the last couple of years about a master's program my alma mater was developing. I liked the idea. I liked the sound of the program they came up with. I felt a tiny pang of ownership. My feedback helped make that. My thoughts helped them decide how to shape it. A couple of weeks ago, I go to a reception my alma mater threw in Beverly Hills. I fell back in love with my school. I swelled with pride. Mostly, that master's program started to sound like a brilliant idea.

I talked it over with my mom. She helped convince me that, yes, I could really do that.

Today, I looked at some GRE sample questions. That was a big stumbling block. I question whether I speak English fluently. I'm certain I don't speak math at all. I began to consider the short time frame to prepare. I weighed whether it could be done. It would be tough, but it could be done.

I looked at the costs. $30,000. I thought about how I could acquire that money.

Then, I considered time. This is a small window. I graduated from the university in the school that offers this master's. They will smile on that in the admissions process, I was assured at the reception. It's their inaugural year. This affords me some leniency, I think, that will not be there next year. Once the program has its first, dazzling class it will be much more marketable. The competition will be stiffer.

So, it's now. Really, tangibly now.

What else do I want out of the next two years? This is where I trip and fall into the crossroads. I do this, and I am committed life, limb and $30,000. More than the big bucks, it's the opportunity cost. What do I want out of the next two years?

A wedding?

A baby?

A novel.

That last one gets a period because I can do that one essentially on my own. The other two require active participation on the part of another individual, ideally the same one. The other two I haven't managed to get in three decades of trying. Obtaining them in the next two years seems like a long shot based on history.

(Yes. I came out of the womb expecting a lavish wedding and a baby. Yes. My first words were "I do.")

Who am I? I am the career woman committed to this communications path. I will climb the ladder where I am. The next two years will be about this program, which would be exciting and challenging. It would tie me a little bit back to the career I left, and broke up with. It would make me far more marketable in this current one.

or

I am someone else. I will write that novel. I will get very serious about it. I will stop talking about this future wedding, this baby-to-be in the subjunctive. As though I have no idea where, or who, they would come from. I will work at a job that gives me the ability to have these other things in my life.

Maybe there's room for crossover here. But it doesn't feel like it. I go for this master's, and I give up this writer thing. It says I am focused on a different kind of career.

All I wanted to do was toy with the idea of a master's degree. All I did was look up some things on the Internet. Suddenly, I'm asking myself very hard, very real questions.

Right now, I am not answering them conclusively. However, it's certainly an important conversation.

Hi. I'm Nicole. I have a problem with food.

I have a problem with food. In the past, I would have put one of the following jokes here:

A.) I don't have anyone to cook it for me.
B.) Aureole is too far away/too expensive.
C.) It's not all made out of chocolate.

But in all seriousness, I have a problem with food. I had 80 lbs. of problem, but I've whittled around 50 lbs. off of that. For the first time in as long as I can remember, taking a slightly long view, this problem feels somewhat manageable. At least, it feels manageable in that 30 seems like a much less scary number than 80.

Since I started this journey in earnest, numbers have become very important to me. I understand the mathematics of it down to the specifics. I know how many calories my body burns on its own in a day. I know how many I can eat in a day. I know that a daily calorie deficit of 500 calories equals one pound of weight loss per week.

It's just math.

It's not the scale gods. I'm not a bad person. There's no metaphysics here. It's just math. It's not personal.

I was on meal replacements for many months, and I'm workig on going back to more "conventional" food. It's hard. It's hard everyday. Taking the real long view, I know that this is a lifelong road. It will always be hard. It will always be everyday. But I can manage it.

I've returned to Weight Watchers, too. While I love this program, and believe in it, it's been an adjustment to recognize that its rules don't really apply to me. Their points allotment exceeds my daily metabolic rate. Their philosophy that you can "have anything," doesn't apply to me. Because I can't. I'm different in that regard. I can't have a box of 100 calorie pack snacks around -- because it's a 600 calorie pack for me. I can't have their "Just 2 Points" bars, because they're never just two points for me. I can't have Skinny Cow in the house, because it doesn't last.

But, at least I know my issues. I'm learning to confront them and cope with them. I'm learning to listen to the strategies that work, and apply them. Most importantly, I'm learning to identify those other "strategies" and "rules" that I use as a loophole -- and that only set me back.

Yay progress.

Back in the coccoon.

I managed to blog steadily for a month.

About a year ago.

Much has happened since then. A recap feels artificial, so there will not be one here.

But, I will post some new thoughts soon.