197.4 lbs. One hundred ninety-seven point four friggin pounds.
Darn it all to Hades in a handbasket...I'm fatter again. Notice I didn't say fat, because, well...that never changed. I just got fatter. Sugar...grease and excessive amounts of fat are the Devil. Darn you lack of self-control! And darn you delicious carbs and holiday cookie trays! Shhhooooot. Now I gotta cut out da crap from my diet.
If it has sugar listed among it's first five ingredients...
If it's after 8 pm at night...
If I have one shred of willpower remaining....
This looks like a job for....
Jillian.
But I can't afford for her to yell at me all day long so I'll settle for Lori at Genesis Fitness (but she doesn't yell, but she likes to reschedule). Which reminds me, I need to reschedule my first appointment for diet counseling.
According to my sister and other skinny friends like her...I must pack a healthy lunch...and one snack, and I can have one sweet a day.
Define "one sweet." Are we talking one, singular Hershey Kiss or a piece of cheesecake? I have to know because GI Joe says dats half the battle.
I need to go and get some serious diet counseling. I have a doctors appt. tomorrow with my new doctor, Dr. O'Driscoll. She gets to tell me how fat I am and she doesn't even know me yet. She'll tell me if my blood pressure is too high, and perhaps be able to give me insight into the mysterious pain in my lower left abdomen. It's not my belt cutting into my gut because I wore loose fitting pajamas and it STILL hurt the other night. It's been with me since April and it comes at random times of the month. That's why I don't think it's a problem of a womanly persuasion if you're getting my womanly double speak for period-related woes. There. I said it out loud. In plain English. Menstrual.
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