2004-10-04 - 4:29 p.m.
fuck. almost, though. time for round 2, bitch.
Last week was really good for me. I exercised, ate right, drank my water. Unfortunately, I was due to surf the crimson wave any day, and when I went to WI, I stayed the same. If I had been rational, I would have realized that, hello asshole, it’s a positive not to gain during that week…and that if it were a normal week, I probably would have lost. Except I’m not a rational person. Yeah, commence screwing up. Somewhere between my hangover on Saturday and the cupcakes I had for breakfast on Sunday, I realized what a goddamn moron I am. Seriously. It’s like I’m getting my rocks off my making this harder on myself. The worst fucking part of all is that I’d finally had the breakthrough week I’d been dreaming of. Which is why I guess I lost it at the scale.
So, right. It’s Monday, and I’ve cut the shit out already, but I know I’ll be paying retribution for the rest of this week. Like I promised myself 10,000 times, I gave my scale to my sister on Friday. It was like a weight was lifted off of my shoulders. For some reason I’d convinced myself that I loved getting on the scale every morning, charting my progress and constantly knowing where I was. That was bullshit, because I felt a sigh of relief once it left my house. I know people are always preaching about weighing yourself once a week, yadda yadda. It’s harder than it sounds. I think I was ready to stop being its slave, though. My reaction after WI only cinched it.
I have no idea when I became so obsessed with numbers and less concerned about changes and habits and shit like that, but I want to shift that balance back a little. I’m not going to lie and say I don’t care about watching numbers drop. I still want to get to 100 lost by New Years. I just don’t want my behavior and attitude dictated by a digital piece of shit.
That was a lot more philosophical than I thought it would be. I’ve had a good day, and I plan to finish it that way.
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