|
navigation
current
archives
links page
profile
|
|
okay, that didn't go perfectly well...
October 14, 2008
When I first looked at it, I classified Day One was almost a success. Good balance of whole grains, fresh fruits and vegetables, lean proteins, and plenty of water. Tasty, healthy eating.
That part at right at the very the end where I ate bologna sandwiches and chocolates kinda fucked it up, though. (I'm thinking I need to go to bed an hour early tonight, to avoid the eleventh hour binge.)
I wasn't that hungry, even. And I can do okay all day--only to desperately rush to shove fatty, carby shit down my gullet before I go to bed.
So why do I do it? Stupid question. I do it because of the BED. But why the hell do I have the BED? According to the Mayo Clinic, "Binge eaters may have trouble coping with anger, sadness, boredom, worry, and stress."
Well no shit.
BUT. Here's the really weird thing: Even though my black and white mind wants to stamp a big old red "F" on the day, I can't be entirely unhappy about the day. I did manage to actually nourish myself yesterday, after all. And at 2290 calories for the day, I actually only went over my calculated allotment (2093) by around 200 calories. And came in under my maintenance number by 303. So calorie-wise, I still even fell into the weight-loss category; just not in the optimal range.
So I have to remember that this is NOT Pass/Fail. I REFUSE to beat myself up about it! PERFECTION IS THE ENEMY OF "GOOD ENOUGH".
They are having a cubicle halloween costume thing at work--"dress up your veal pen for the holiday" horseshit. Chaos, of course. I was trying to work on a project that needs three months and I have one. So of course I was just thrilled to have people hollering at each other across the wing, climbing on desks, rattling paper and plastic and cellophane--Augh!
And then there's the sound effects. At least three people in the vicinity of my desk incorporated noise-generating thingies into their schemes. Pirates, ghosts, howling wolves, vampires, and...Chipmunks.
I asked my team members to start hiding the sharp objects.
Reading: "Steps In Time", by Fred Astaire. Fred wrote his autobiography in 1959, 28 years before he died. But that's not the only reason there is a whole bunch of his life you won't find here. Mr. Astaire, being a graceful and gentlemanly sort, penned a book that doesn't take a crack at anybody. Even the kid who delivered his first punch in the nose turns out to be a great guy. Not a lot of insight, introspection, or analysis here, but rather a pleasant read, nonetheless.
Surfing: A completely different kind of horrifying. (thanks--I guess--to Ces at "Medium Large" for the glimpse of hell)
Listening:Listening: Don McLean, Van Morrison, Leningrad Cowboys
At Random: click here
|
|
|