To tell you the truth, all of my days are starting to blend together into a haze of work-related exhaustion. It's getting better each week, but I still don't have the brain power or the inclination to reach back into the memory bank for this time last week and talk about what I ate. So let's just skip to the stats:
Original Weight: 312.0 lbsYAY! I got a five-pound sticker this week to go along with the other two and a few "Bravo" stickers I've gotten for speaking up in the meetings to talk about changes I'm making or victories I've had. Huh. That sounds really lame when I type it out like that, but I swear, in person, it's not so...childish. Everyone claps for you and it just feels really good. And STICKERS! Fine, it's a little childish, but who cares. STICKERS! [Also, rereading that gives me the irrational and unavoidable urge to clarify that the "five-pound sticker" does not, in fact, weigh five pounds. It merely symbolizes five pounds. Well, and it SAYS five pounds. And just to clarify my clarification, the sticker doesn't talk. When I say that it "says" five pounds, I mean that the text "5LB" is written on the sticker. And now I'm trying to pronounce "lb" instead of "pound." Elb. Lib. Ulb. Llllllllllbuh.]
Today's Weight: 297.0 lbs
Week's Change: -1.6 lbs
Total Loss: -15.0 lbs
I am one pound away from my first goal. One pound in one week. That's not too terribly difficult. Well. If I hadn't eaten like a maniac this weekend. Authentic empanadas and non-authentic queso dip! Burgers and other BBQ fare! Book Club Mexican Restaurant Food! Kammah's
It's looked a lot like this:
Elise's Morning Wake Up Routine, a Dramatic Reenactment:
INT. ELISE'S BEDROOM - DAWN
The room is dim--all the curtains are pulled to blot out the beastly sunlight. In the bed is a sprawled lump, which is in fact ELISE asleep. On the nightstand is a charging IPHONE.
Buzzz! Buzzz! Get up! GET UUUUUUPPPP!
She bats at the phone ineffectively, finally managing to silence the alarm.
INT. ELISE'S BEDROOM - 9 MINUTES LATER
Seriously. I mean it this time. Get up now or no matter which button you hit, I will turn off forever and ruin you life by making you late for work while you're still under scrutiny from your new boss. Do it NOOOOOOOWWWW!
She bats at the phone again, somewhat less impotently this time. She rolls onto her back and hold her eyelids open for fear of falling back asleep and fulfilling the iPhone's prophecy. After several minutes of slower and slower blinks, she flings back the covers with a groan.
This is the most terrible thing. I mean, seriously, this is the worst idea I have EVER had. Just awful.
Whose idea was this morning thing anyway? It's such a bad one. The worst.
She stumbles to the door, but then stumbles back to the bed to turn it into some semblance of "made" so that the cat won't get into her sheets and leave her gritty presents. Finally, she exits the room after bashing various body parts on various pieces of furniture. Her eyes are closed.
INT. BATHROOM - MUCH LATER THAN ELISE WOULD LIKE
It is ungodly bright in here. Elise stands in the doorway blinking and muttering murderously. There is a CAT here. It cries unrelentingly for Elise to turn on the faucet. Elise moves to the toilet to take care of business and the cat jumps on the counter to meow in her face.
Cat soup for dinner. That's all I'm saying.
The cat bumps her head forcefully against Elise. When this yields only a glare, it begins licking Elise's elbow.
(to the ceiling)
Worst. Idea. Ever.
Elise turns on the shower and steps in, glowering at the cat and, let's face it, the universe.
INT. BATHROOM - NOW EVEN LATER THAN LATE
Elise emerges from the shower and wraps a towel around her body. While she was in the shower, the cat has turned into three cats. The door of the bathroom hangs wide open to the rest of the house. However, a dramatic change has taken place in Elise's visage and she looks much more human, if a little more damp, than before. She pats each cat good morning and exits the bathroom.
I think I might be reading too many TV scripts online these days. Which is to say, any at all, apparently.
next week later this week with Weigh-In: Week 10. Alternately titled Did She Meet Her Goal Or Succumb to the Specter of the Left Over Ice Cream Cake in the Freezer?