Get ready to weigh in.
Dread. I don't want to weigh in tomorrow. Hell, I didn't want to weigh in today. The honest truth is that I'm struggling through the witching hour. And last night I faltered, again. The problems are two-fold, I think. We don't eat early enough to suit me. It's usually 6 o'clock when we get home from the gym. Last night, I started dinner pretty much as soon as I walked in the door, but it still wasn't ready until nearly 8pm. It had been 8 hours since I'd eaten. I was starving -um, no, I wasn't starving, but I was hungry and so when Bick ran to the store to get him some ice cream, I ate several handfuls of nuts, which until I actually weighed the last handful, I'd been grossly underestimating the calories. Sigh. So, looks like I've got a couple of problems to solve. I need to eat earlier, whether Bick wants to or not. I feel like some sort of failure because I want to eat before he does. Secondly, during the witching hour, which is when I am at my most vulnerable, I don't need to be alone in the kitchen because I won't snack in front of Bick - which says something, I'm sure.
The good stuff:
I got in a couple of workouts yesterday, so that's good.
I had no desire for Bick's ice cream.