So, the diet was going well. All week long, I've been counting points, eating right and exercising (still haven't made it to the gym though). Then PMS hit.
So I had a big, heaping plate of ravioli in tomato cream sauce for dinner. And then?
And then I ate a brownie. Smothered in chocolate peanut butter cup ice cream. Not the low fat kind, either.
But you know what? It was worth every deliciously sinful point.
Some days just demand chocolate. Lots and lots and lots of chocolate.
And that's my confession for the evening. Now I'm going to take myself up to bed, so all those yummy, chocolatey calories can find their place on my hips.
Tomorrow, after all, is another day. And the battle between me and my belly can resume. But for now? I call a truce.
Because I will fit back into my skinny jeans, damn it.
Labels: confession time
Today did not mark the day that I darkened the doors of my gym once again, unfortunately. I don't even have a really good excuse. Except for the overpowering skunk smell that currently permeates my home (and, I'm afraid, my person).
After battling that, I simply didn't have the energy.
What I did have the energy for? Two glasses of wine (well, I'm currently drinking the second). But don't worry, I'm counting the points. I also had time to catch up with my bestest buddy in the whole world...via facebook.
Yes, I could have picked up the phone, but a facebook chat is better than nothing (love ya, babe).
But tomorrow. Tomorrow I really am going to the gym. I'm going to pack my bag in the morning and stick it in my car, so I can go straight from work. Because once home? And surrounded by my family? It's much, much harder to go back out.
Especially when the place I'm going out to will make me hurt. And sweat. And not in a good way.
What? Get your minds out of the gutter!
Labels: confession time