psst… I have something to tell you.
I cheated on my diet.
Saturday I had chocolate cake with frosting from Wal-Mart. And homemade frenchbread pizzas with pepperoni.
Sunday I had Ben & Jerry’s Karamel Sutra ice cream. And I ate myself nearly sick on pizza at DoubleDave’s.
Monday… Hmmm… I can’t recall what I did Monday. Maybe I was good.
Tuesday, I had a sleeve of peanut butter sandwich cookies, a couple of other cookies, the rest of the Ben & Jerry’s ice cream, kettle corn popcorn, a bazillion rice cakes, and chocolate.
Wednesday, I had a lemonade cookie and a bazillion rice cakes.
And dammit if every day this week I didn’t drop weight on the scale at work. That thing must be broken, ’cause I cheated.
It couldn’t be that I drank lots of water or went to work out or ate really well with the exception of those lapses. There must be some magical reason that scale is now showing me weighing what I did before Christmas break. It sure as hell can’t be because I am following some diet religiously. I’ve even had major guilt issues about how I am not doing what I need to do to lose weight. And to have dropped 4 pounds this week? This is so freaking unfair.
Think of all those times when I do “everything right” and hover steadily at the same weight – or even gain. What is wrong with this picture? I thought cheaters weren’t supposed to prosper. I don’t know. I guess I’ll go drink another water.