Kicking my own ass.

Do you ever just have a few really poopy weeks that you throw your good diet, exercise plan, and all the healthy sense you have worked so hard on for months right out the freaking window so it goes *SPLAT* on the concrete then a semi-truck drives by and it goes *SHMOOOOOCH* under it's tires? Yes? I'm not alone? Thank the ever loving Lord.

Why is it that when something bad happens, our lives are derailed for a bit, and/or our routine hits a little speed bump that we revert to our 'old', comfortable, completely batshit-horrible-for-you ways?  Then we continue in those ways till the scale creeps up to a weight that we spend 2 months trying to shrink?  And finally, once at this new, makes-me-want-to-take-an-ice-pick-to-the-scale-and-feed-it-to-a-wood-chipper weight, we kick our own ass for being so weak, stupid, out of control, etc.?

WHHYYYYYYYY?????????

Why is it a visious circle? Why can't I just realize that all that crap food I just shoved down my gullet is doing nothing but making me feel slightly better for a fraction of a second? And when that second passes, I feel even worse because I realize I ate crap for nothing.

Jeez-la-weez. I'm a hot mess.

I have a garden full of fresh spinach and lettuce. I have chicken in the freezer, just waiting to be baked.  I have low-fat cheese, fresh veggies, and yogurt to snack on just sitting in the fridge.  But what do I choose instead? I choose to order a large pizza with 18 toppings, then polish that off with a bucket of potato salad, 2 brownies, super buttered popcorn and pudding. All before noon yesterday. Christ.

Well, the little devil scale informed me this morning that because I eat like a 367lb trucker, I am going to end up weighing like a 367lb trucker if I don't change my ways.

And you know what's in 2 weeks? Memorial weekend. You know what happens on Memorial weekend? I shove my bubble butt and watermelon-thunder-thighs into a swimsuit.  Thank the effing Lord above that no one but my husband and his parents will see this atrocity.  But still, we have a wedding in 3 weeks and I really, really, REALLY wanted to look extra spectacular.

Holy crap. Do you hear that? The whiny bitch from 'fat' Hell has come out and taken over my voice.

Don't worry, I just roundhouse kicked the snot of her and stuffed her back to the flames of misery.

Ok, so pep talk time:

Get up off your jiggle and eat a freaking salad!!! Walk the eagerly waiting pup tonight for at least 20 minutes and promise yourself that you will do that at least 4 times a week.  Get the frozen poultry out of the damn freezer and bake the shit out of it.  Go to the freaking grocery store and get the much needed nutrition that the fridge is lacking. And quit being suck a whiner.

(I don't know if you all have ever experienced this before, but basically you just read someone kicking their own ass.)