Sticky trap

If you ever have four legged critters invade your home and need to get rid of them sticky traps are without a doubt the way to go. They are more fail safe than traditional traps and you don't have to bait them with cheese or peanut butter. In fact, if you put peanut butter on them, the peanut butter can work as a lubricant and the mouse can free himself. Then he will continue to frolic through your home smelling like peanut butter and missing a few patches of hide.
The only problem is, a sticky trap, when successful, usually is successful at 4:18 a.m. and when said sticky trap catches its prey at 4:18 a.m. the 3 inch long mouse will thrash and flail and cause such a commotion you would swear you've trapped a pygmy goat. Especially when the trap is laid on a hardwood floor. I'm not shitting you, it sounded like the little bastard drug the trap all the way across the floor, danced the Jitterbug and then retreated back underneath the dresser tap dancing the entire time. In reality, he might have moved it a few centimeters.
Because it was 4:18 a.m., I was held captive by the mouse. I was not about to get up and "take care" of it. Big D was of no help; peacefully snoring through a Rupplemintz laden Bears victory and it was too early to get up and do something, so I just laid there and thought. I though about how some days I am like this little mouse bound to the sticky trap. If you've ever had a mouse in a sticky trap you know that for great stretches of time, they will just lay there, content,  contemplating how the hell they got themselves into this situation and wondering how they can get out of it, then all of the sudden like someone lit a fire under their tiny little mouse ass they jump around and kick and scream and flail and rebel trying to free themselves.
I thought about how this journey I am on is like being in a sticky trap. For long stretches of time, I am content, I just "lay there" contemplating what I am doing and am peaceful with what I am doing. I eat what I should, when I should, I drink all 100 ounces of water and then some. I exercise. I track my condiments. I measure my vegetables (well, eyeball them anyway, after all, my ass did not get the size it is by eating too many broccoli florets.) Then all of the sudden, I rebel, I kick and scream and flail and wrestle with myself unable to free myself from the "trap" I've fallen into. I stop counting and measuring, I nibble here and there. I stop exercising. I feel like I am a mouse waiting for someone to put a little bit of peanut butter on my sticky trap so I can work myself free. (Really, I would slit someone's throat for some peanut butter....the real stuff, JIF Extra chunky.)
I feel that I am on my way back down from my "trapped" period, as I went to the fitness center and worked out last night. Three miles on the treadmill in 41 minutes. I walked 5, ran 10, walked 5, ran 5, walked 5, you get the idea. It felt good and my legs hurt today. Pain is good. I also went home and ate a chicken breast and a large bowl of baby tomatoes. I'm having veggie issues this week. I feel like I will cack if I see another shred of lettuce and I will not be held responsible for my actions if I eat another green bean, so the tomatoes were a large victory, as I have been slacking in my green department this week.
T-minus 19 days until the white shorts must fit. I'm not sure when the final weigh in for the $140 challenge is...It's time to get out of my trap.