Somebody please help me!

I can't stop making bread! It's only been a week and a half but I've made baguettes with various exciting stuff thrown in (the herbed one remains my favorite, although the Parmesan cheese one was tasty), a buttermilk whole wheat loaf, and now this focaccia you see half of here.

It might have been eaten but we need it for the spicy chicken and arugula sandwiches tonight. Kate helped devour the first half. I must admit to being maternally disappointed, though not surprised, at her bite of bread to beef & barley stew ratio. Jeremiah was highly complimentary of the focaccia; upon seeing it he exclaimed with his mouth full of bread dipped in olive oil "You made that? I would swear you bought it!" But no, I made it with my two hands! I kept my laptop on the kitchen counter while doing it and actually wrote a stored procedure for a new report in between proofing yeast, and kneading the dough. Really. I had to vacuum flour off the keyboard when I was done.

The problem, in fact, is not so much the making of the bread as the eating of the bread. How can flour, water and yeast be so irresistible? HOW? There's a good chance the bread making will only get worse. So I've made a promise to myself which I will publish here in an effort to actually keep it. I will train for the breast cancer 3-Day daily. Yes, every day I will put in one hour's worth of working out (don't worry, I'll let my muscles recover, but daily cardio won't kill me - you can see why I'll need it). This morning I was up obediently at 5 to workout with Lola before Jeremiah took off for the gym at 6. It's cold. But as one who likes to backpack in the wintertime, I'm prepared. I put the first layer of clothes I intend to wear in the morning in my sleeping bag with me so they'll be toasty and so I can get semi-dressed without getting out of my warm bag. In this case I get to sleep in my bed and don't need to also throw my water bottle in there, which is nice. I figure since the I don't need to exercise for 60 consecutive minutes, I can break it up as needed. Perhaps I'll jump some rope while waiting for the final rise on my bread...