Yeah, I probably should have been blogging more this weekend.
Unfortunately, I had some bad news come my way about a dear friend. I mentally collapsed for 3 days about it. And during those 3 days, my throat got spotty (strep- I get it often) and was confined to my house for the same 3 days, where I caught up on my Netflix viewing because I didn’t dare get anyone else sick until my antibiotics kicked in.
Oh, I also went a little overboard on the eating, being in an emotionally wrecked state. So I would up weighing 181 this morning after getting back down to 179 last week. It could have been way worse. But the fates of dieting had pity on my metabolism and tossed me a break.
Some days the only thing that can soothe a girl is chocolate. And pizza.
I am forever struggling with the thought that “I want to be done with this.” Meaning the diet. I want to wake up one morning, hop on the scale, see 135, and go about my day carefree and perky-like. But I am beginning to understand that “being done” is a fantasy, like fried chicken that has no calories, or a diet donut that doesn’t taste like crap.
There is NO SUCH THING as being DONE. It can be better, it can be at goal, but it will never be done. And I am slowly coming to grips with that fact. This is not just a diet that I can switch on and off. It’s a lifestyle that is going to test and frustrate me until I die or stop caring about it.
I know this is a short post, but the fact is I DO STILL CARE. So I am running off to meet Tricky Nikki at the YMCA and walk my little heart out for an hour and a half. I’ll catch you on the flipside tomorrow, folks. Keep caring, and make the differences you can today.