Thursday, August 23, 2007


You know what's motivating? Stepping on a scale after 2 weeks of not working out and, oh, a month or so of not really caring all that much about what I put in my mouth. Gah!

The weather has been so lovely lately that I planned all of these errands on Saturday that entail walking all over downtown Boston. Only I learned this morning that Saturday will be muggy and mid-90's. So I figure I should sweat off at LEAST a couple of pounds. If I don't die from heat prostration.

Tuesday, August 21, 2007


I don't know what my problem is. I have a few good months and then it all goes to hell in a handbasket.* After some good times here at the weight loss blog, I find myself puttering around, not eating THAT badly, but not eating that well either, and surely not exercising regularly. I keep saying, "The momentum's back! Rrraar!" and I have a good couple of days, but then the momentum fades.

I should have lost 10 more pounds by now and at least several more inches. Instead, I'm going to have to have my wedding dress let out instead of taken in when I finally make it to the tailor. It's all this wedding planning and working 2 part-time jobs (about 50 hours a week) with no job security and traveling to and from Providence a LOT to hang out with Jason.

Worst of all, I'm losing my edge of moral superiority over my less active and "oh, these shorts are getting tight" fiance. And we can't have that.

I don't really know how to get my spark back, and I am so in awe of women like Pasta Queen who have lost insane amounts of weight and are still plugging along, sticking to their plan. I keep making excuses about how this week has been SO CRAZY, but I have a feeling that that's how they're going to be from now on - at least until the wedding. Probably afterwards too. And I am NOT gaining back 22 pounds just in time to walk down the aisle!

Tomorrow is shot. I'll be in Providence tonight and I don't have my suit or anything with me. But Thursday. Thursday I am in the pool.

* In one of my apartments in Chicago we had a navy blue inflatable chair that got dubbed "the handbasket" because one of us was sitting in it while being snarky, followed up by, "I'm going to Hell" and then another one of us chimed in, "In a handbasket" and then she said "No, I'm in the blow up chair," but the chair was forever after dubbed the handbasket. OK, you probably had to be there, but we got a lot of mileage out of the handbasket and who happened to be sitting in the handbasket and what you could be doing in the handbasket to warrant your destination.