Well, it's been over thirty days on this diet.
The Honey Moon is OVER. Reality is sinking in. Even though this diet, with its weird rules and regulations, and bizarre starvation will be over, the rest of it won't be. I can't eat white bread anymore - unless I treat it like a piece of fucking cake, and if that's the case, why not just eat the cake? I can't eat thoughtlessly anymore. I have to be adult, and pay attention, and so on and so forth.
I hope that in a few months when I read this, I will laugh "ha!" I will say. "I was just whining." But now, I'm sortof in a pissed off mode. Like a bratty kid.
I'm hungry and need to eat again. I'm sick of steaming vegetables and I just got home and I'm too tired to cook. But fast food must be out, forever and ever. And so instead of bitching to my faithful pals here, I need to haul my fluffy butt into the kitchen and cook something healthy.
I was able to get back in to the 193 range after the "wild" weekend of having 1200 calories versus 500.
But before I put all of you right off with my wailing, I will say that even though this diet is boring as hell, and limited and minimal, it has been totally worth it. And I tell myself that the next phase will be less boring and certainly less minimal and that weight will still come off, albeit more slowly.
Because today I PUT ON MY SIZE 14 Ann Taylor Jeans. And I even zipped them up. And wore them in public. And had manageable Muffin Toppage that was not humiliating under my shirt. So that's a victory.
I want to wear these size 14 jeans every single day, just to remind myself that there are advantages to growing up and eating like an adult versus an indulgent teen aged girl.
OK. Speaking of adulthood, it's time to eat something. Something reasonable.
One Woman's Quest to Lose Large and Ugly Panties Forever
I've had it with ugly panties that fit my large behind. I'm done with clothes for the large woman that just aren't as cute as the clothes I wore twenty years ago. I'm tired of wheezing as I go up the stairs. I've got sixty pounds to lose - because on my fiftieth birthday, I'm dancing naked in a thong, dammit. And it better be pretty. This little bunny rabbit is hopping me down the weight loss lane. I wanted a pair of big granny panties rolling through the grass, but I'm not computer savvy.