Finally... I've lost another pound!

Hallelujah.... the scale is finally going down! I do admit that I have an unhealthy obsession with checking my weight a million times a day. I also admit I get ridiculously aggravated when I haven't lost any weight. I know that you can't lose weight every day. I know that losing 1-2 pounds a week is healthy. But I want to lose MORE. I'm all about instant gratification, which is why I tend to give up so easily on everything. Eating chocolate is pleasurable. Eating veggies suck.

Update: I did go home after my last blog post and play my dance game and played it for an hour. By the end I was sweating profusely, I couldn't breathe, and I swore I was going to vomit. It was awful. And Painful. My back hurt for days. I did get up to level 14 so that's good. I haven't played it again though, because My hubby was home over the weekend and we were too busy playing COD to do anything else. I'm also on overnights this week and by the time I get home Hubby is playing COD by himself. I'm sure if I asked him he'd let me play my game, but then he sits there and watches me and offers suggestions on how to do it better. It drives my crazy.

Speaking of driving me crazy, my husband is an ass. I'm trying so hard to be good and not eat all the delicious processed junk foods that are in the house and he has the audacity of continuing to offer me bites of ice cream and cookies and the like. I say no repeatedly but a fat girl's will power can only withstand so much. 

I know I have an addictive personality and my drug of choice is carbs. I love carbs of all kinds. If given the opportunity I would bathe in sugar. Offering me carbs is like offering liquor to an alcoholic. Can I resist? Yes. Do I want to? Kinda. Is it easy? Oh hell no. I want to go all Gallum on that shit and horde it in my cave. I want to eat it, and love it, and squeeze it, and bring it for long walks on the beach. I would give anything to be like my husband and be able to eat a whole quart of ice cream in one sitting and not gain any weight. It sickens me when he's in the bathroom and I hear "You're not feeding my enough Squishy, I've lost another pound." If I didn't love the bastard I swear I'd murder him in cold blood and bury him underneath the basement floor. 

Okay. So, ranting over. At this point I'm feeling pretty hopeful that things are starting to go my way again. I've been more conscious of what I'm eating and I've started to take the stairs instead and also to take the long way around at work. I'm positive that these small changes will have an impact on my progress. Maybe people will start commenting on my diminishing waist line again. It feels nice when people recognize the hard work I'm putting into it. 

I realize that I'm going to be working for the rest of my life. This will never be easy. I'm going to do my best.