Birthday Blues?

My birthday is Monday. I'm not telling you this for an onslaught of birthday wishes, or for sympathy. I'm telling you this because it's my pathetic excuse for the gluttony that has already started today. Saturday. Not my birthday.

For some reason, I've declared that I'm taking today off from WW. I started my day tracking the homemade pancakes I made for my family for our weekend breakfast. Then I got to my in-laws house... Their house is a magical place filled with candy, donuts, and all the pop you could drink. I got there, and popped a few chocolates into my mouth. When my husband gave me the judger face he gives (I usually ask him to), I told him "screw you, it's my birthday weekend." Then we had (mass quantities of) Chipotle for lunch, washed down with a real sugar Coke. Then I accidentally had two powdered sugar donut holes for dessert. I justified this knowing that I will be going for a long run this afternoon, and I want the caffeine to stay up late... But we are also going to a casino this evening for some birthday fun... And casinos usually mean you're having a buffet for dinner. Moo.

So what is it about my "birthday weekend" that makes me feel like I have an excuse to eat the equivalent of a month's worth of garbage food? Is it the sadness over my early 30's being behind me, and embarking upon my mid-30's? Do I feel entitled to an extra 100 WW Points Plus as a birthday gift? The new pants I bought the other day don't leave much room for the extra birthday calories - it's not like birthday calories don't count.

Basically, I'm ratting myself out to you all for a few reasons.
1: Maybe I can exhibit self control at the buffet later. I don't need to get 'my money's worth' of desserts. No reason I need 3 plates worth of food...

2: I'm letting y'all know that it's ok to be human and fail at weight watching every now and again. You just need to start again tomorrow. There's no reason to eat like this every day. My pants will still fit next week so long as this kind of piggery doesn't happen on a regular basis.

3: By me writing this all out, I can really see what I'm doing and ask myself why I'm eating a ton of shit food.. is it worth it? Does it make me happy to eat it, even though I know I'll be furious with myself later? Chances are, no, I won't be happy eating more than one dessert tonight.

I've now armed myself with a little bit of logic that will hopefully fight off the urge to get that buffet refill. My cousin is meeting us later and joked that I should blog about surviving the buffet, to which I replied "there will be no survivors." Maybe now I can prove myself wrong. If not... Well.. Happy birthday, Mar... Here's five pounds to lose. I'd rather give myself the satisfaction of comfortable fitting pants, thank you.