First I ask:
Is a fine line between love and hate the same as the fine line between
Want and Need
Crave and Addiction?
I hadn’t drank coffee in months. I was doing well. Feeling the same. At least I wasn’t feeling any worse. Though there are days. Lawd yes, there are days.
Then I returned to the mothership aka the behemoth that is home office. With that comes Starbucks in easy access. I maintained willpower week one. Then week two all bets were off. I even brought my own cup. A tall nonfat decaf no whip cafe mocha was my way of economizing. Wallet and waist. Still not good as I partook for three days in a row. And the bagels … so … much… bread. With honey walnut cream cheese.
I’m sorry not sorry. I’m tired of feeling guilty for eating. I can’t go back to starving myself for some ideal. All this IF is triggering to me. IF = intermittent fasting. Dammit I am going to eat.
And what I am writing about above happened back in July/August time frame. I just didn’t post it right away because I had included some personal stuff regarding lil Lulu. I axed that part for consumption on another day … or not! Any hoo, I am back at the mothership for good. In July and August, I was just a visitor. Lord help me. I am in trouble.
B was told he really should consider losing some weight at his last check-up on 7/5/19. In typical B fashion, he said nothing. He stopped using creamer, cut back on dessert to Friday only, and cut out most bread. We noticed but didn’t talk about it. He’s down 22 lbs since then. Imagine if he really tried. I’d like some of that testosterone.
As always, more to come.