So far, on my nearly 4 weeks of “non-dieting,” I’ve lost 14 pounds. I’m happy about that. I hope to never see those pounds again. Most of the pounds were gained after getting laid off. I’m not making excuses, I shouldn’t have gained weight, but honestly such close proximity to the fridge 24 hours a day for six months is dangerous. It isn’t like I haven’t screwed up on my non-diet during the month, but I had consequences for it. So, I’m not thinking of it as screwing up, I’m thinking of it has just being accountable for what I eat. I can eat certain things as long as I accommodate for it and get my ass to the gym or go for a longer walk.
I feel like once I lose 15 pounds, I will celebrate. The celebration plan will include Tiffany’s birthday, a crawfish boil, a pitcher of Hurricanes, good times with great friends and the Rapture. In short, I need to lose that next pound before Saturday. Those 15 pounds are symbolic, to me…symbolic of getting past a major bump (insert fat joke here) in the road. I feel better, I look better and I’m happier. Not happier because I’m thinner, but happier because I feel more in control of my life. That’s a good feeling and I’ll take it.
A look at what 15 pounds looks like:
This disgusting looking hamburger
A large domestic cat
Possible 3 month birth weight of Schwarzenegger love child
15 pound dumbbell
Three 5 pound bags of sugar
15 one pound sticks of butter (Paula Deen not included)
15 guinea pigs
10 dozen large eggs
3 average-sized Chihuahuas