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Losing weight makes me grouchy.

Correction: Trying to lose weight makes me grouchy.

When I actually lose weight, I'm ecstatic. But the miserable process of burning fat from my thighs instead of eating what I want - that makes me really grouchy.

I'm hungry, my stomach is growling, and I have a headache. All I can think about is how long I have to wait until I can eat my meager lunch of plain tuna on lettuce. I keep questioning how it is that feeling this lousy can actually be good for my health.

I've heard it said - a lot - that people get fat by thinking too much about food. But that's a lie, and I'm living proof. Fat people do not spend a lot of time thinking about food - we just eat it.

Now dieters, that's a different story altogether. We think about little else but food.

Since I've started this diet, I find myself waking up before the alarm pierces the quiet solitude of morning. This new habit has nothing to do with getting in a quick workout before the kids wake up. The most exercise I want in the morning is pouring my coffee into my cup.

I am rising early because all I can think about is what I'm going to eat for breakfast.

Should I have two slices of dry whole grain toast topped with a thin layer of sugarless jam? That see-through glaze of fruit spread is exactly 78 calories, less than fake butter. (Yes, I actually calculated it.) Besides, fake butter just doesn't melt, and I have a hard time convincing my palate that butter should still be a shiny yellow even when heated in the microwave.

But then I waver. Perhaps I should have two of the natural low-fat waffles with sugar-free syrup instead. I could even go wild and split a teaspoon of peanut butter between the two, but only if I cut out the tablespoon of half-and-half I serve in my coffee. I nix that idea. I need that tablespoon of cream in that first cup of coffee.

While the news announcer tells me the latest happenings in our fair city, I try to decide if I should have poached egg whites this morning or if I have the energy to whip up an egg white omelet? Who am I kidding? I barely drag through the morning as it is.

I decide to just stick with the toast.

This is just breakfast, and already I've spent a good half hour choosing my sad little menu. The same time-consuming decisions drag on throughout the day. Will it be a chef salad for lunch or a diet frozen meal? Do I eat with the family tonight or make something else just for me? And, is there any way possible to save enough calories for a small treat before bed?

I think about food all day long.

I never thought about food like this in the years it took me to get fat. When I wanted ice cream, I pulled into the drive-through. If I wanted a pick-me-up in the late afternoon, I didn't think twice about a grande cafe mocha from Starbucks. And who could resist my homemade pizza? I certainly didn't try.

When I was hungry, I ate. If I was craving something, it didn't take me long to find a way to get my fill.

I'm beginning to wonder how skinny people get any work done. How do they find time to fulfill any of their tasks at work and still decide what to eat for lunch? It's wearing me out, and I've only been at this for a month now.

But my clothes are fitting more nicely, and I have one skirt that doesn't fit at all anymore.

That small success makes up for the horrid headache I have right now. In the past, I'd just take care of it with a nice little snack of chocolate chip cookies or a slice of cake. This time, I'll try to decide between half an apple with six almonds or one thin slice of fat-free cheese and five saltine crackers.

Just thinking about it makes me grouchy. Maybe I should skip the snack and just take a couple of Tylenol. Or should I make it Advil? I wonder how many calories are in pain killers?

It's the decisions that are making me grouchy.

In fact, I've decided to just go back to bed.