I don’t have to work today! (glorious!) But I keep forgetting that it’s Monday. Which means I keep forgetting that it’s a McFatty day. der.
Update on the drama of the potentially broken scale: Last week seemed to hold steady around 207 lbs, & today was 205.5 lbs. So I lost roughly a pound & a half last week, which is lovely. It’s still going downward on the scale & I’m doing it while I’m happy. Which is huge.
Because I was thinking last night…it was easier for me to lose weight when I was a psychotic Eeyore. Because quite frankly, I lacked the will to live. I had little interaction with friends. I either went to bed by 7pm or was awake until 2am. I did not celebrate anything. I did not go out. I found zero joy in anything, much less food. The idea of simply wasting away felt refreshing. I’m not ashamed to admit that. But now? Now, I have lunch with girlfriends. I find joy in stopping into Starbucks in the morning for a latte. I bake my husband brownies on the weekend. & it’s harder to lose weight this way.
Obviously, I’ll take being happier & holding onto an extra 10-15 lbs over the way I’ve been this year ANY DAY. If you can’t agree with that statement, please bend over so I can put my foot in your ass backside.
It’s easy to lose weight when life shuts down. But when life is more normal? When life holds joy & people & excitement? It’s harder. Can I keep losing weight when life is “normal?”
Is it easier for you to lose weight when life is “off,” or when it’s more “normal?”
What 205.5 looks like with a dirty baby-smudged mirror. & my favorite yoga pants that I’m wearing holes into. Which means I should probably stop wearing them out in public.
Kind of like how I should take time to wash my mirror before putting it out there for the universe to see. But at least the bed’s made. & it’s not like your house is perfect, either. At least, that’s what I tell myself.
Seriously, can you imagine the stress of constantly trying to look perfect on a blog? I think about that a lot. How I should put on makeup & do my hair & put on clothes that aren’t covered in baby puke, but then I’m all, THAT’S NOT REAL LIFE. & then people would totally hate me for it. & I’d rather you tease me for my bare feet than think I live this fairytale.
umm, hi, random rant.
I’ve had too much coffee.
