I'm in a boring place. I'm in this "maintain your weight" place and lo and behold, I'm maintaining it. If I drink margaritas with the pastor, then I have to watch my intake of food for a couple of days. That's it. It is gloriously boring.
But the six weeks are coming to an end and I am looking to drop another twenty pounds. Weirdly, this is becoming anxiety provoking. Dieting is fucking miserable at times. I am having anticipatory anxiety about it, which is stupid.
I am thinking - do I go back on Crazy HCG? Do I do Allan's challenge? If I can't have meat and chicken on Allan's challenge, then will I be sad? What program? I am comfy and not comfy where I am now. I am still too fat. But I'll admit, I'm not looking forward to the deprivation parts of any calorie restrictive program that I will have to do, if I'm headed down the scale.
ARG.
Oh well, enough whining. If this is my biggest problem, then I'm DAMN LUCKY. And the sun is sortof shining, and more snow is not predicted until tomorrow. And it's officially Spring, so hey, I'll start researching programs and let you know.
GP
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.
