Skip to Content

When I fall off the wagon, I fall HARD. And FAST. Because I’m FAT.

I hate today.
I stepped on the scale this morning and, even though I knew what I’d see when I looked down, I got all bummed.
193.  
I gained a pound and a half last week.  
(I also ran late leaving the house and then got pulled over by a police officer. Thankfully, he only gave me a warning, but he still put me five ADDITIONAL minutes behind. And we were out of the good coffee at home so now I’m drinking the watery, yuck school coffee and it is just not good. ::sigh::) 
The weight gain is totally my fault. I didn’t watch what I was eating. 
There was a lot of wine on Monday night, and the delicious crab legs.  And Wendy’s on Tuesday. The spaghetti I made on Wednesday night KILLED ME because I ate it for lunch on Thursday AND on Friday. (And spaghetti is totally not healthy for you. Which bums me out because I love that stuff.) And I totally binged on Smarties and Laffy Taffy on Friday night’s two hour bus ride to the football game, and then had Chick-fil-A and Dorito’s at the game.  And let’s not even mention the copious amounts of chips and salsa I had at the Mexican restaurant on Saturday and the cheese dip and extra cheese sauce my chicken burrito was swimming in.  (I so just mentioned that, didn’t I??)
I could FEEL the weight gain happening as the week went on.  I could FEEL myself getting all thick through the middle.  
Did I do anything to stop it?  Of course not.  
I just kept eating and eating and eating.  If I didn’t know any better I’d think I’d jumped ahead two weeks in my birth control pack. But I didn’t. But that’s how hungry I was.
It’s kind of amazing how much differently I felt being down to 191.5.  And now being back up to 193, I literally FEEL fatter.  It doesn’t seem like a pound and a half should make THAT much difference, but it does.
It. So. Does.
So, what’s the plan for this week?
NOT STUFF MYSELF LIKE A FATTY AT AN ALL-YOU-CAN-EAT BUFFET.
And maybe, now that it’s cooling off just a smidge, I might take the toddler for a walk after dinner. And maybe even rope the husband and dog into coming along, too.  
But that’s a huge maybe on the exercise.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.