Here we go again.
by Bella Rum
Some people lose weight during periods of stress. We do not like those people. I know. I know. It isn’t their fault, but if they could choose, do you really think they would choose to gain weight like the rest of us? I think not.
Someone has her nose out of joint.
The time to tackle all those pounds I mentioned a few weeks ago has arrived. I lost a couple of pounds this week. And by a couple, I mean a couple, not a few. Don’t bring out the bullhorn yet. For me, losing two pounds is comparable to chopping off two ice cubes from an iceberg for your Crown Royal. Well, that’s how I feel at the moment. Eight pounds from now, I’ll be approaching smug.
All kidding aside, this never-ending challenge is getting boring. A few years ago, I lost fifty pounds. I kept all of it off for a couple of years, but I’ve never permanently maintained a weight loss. Those lost pounds are always sitting over there in the corner, waiting for me to turn my back, to skip my morning walk, to indulge in a second helping of mashed potatoes, its malevolent little eyes following me around the room. Over the past year, I gained back half of my hard-earned wight loss. I can always tell if I’ve had a bad year when I step on the scale. Not to make excuses, BUT the steroids, the caregiver situation, etc. didn’t help.
I refuse to gain another pound. So, here we go again. From time to time, there will be boring posts to chart my progress. Don’t worry, I’ll only post at ten-pound intervals – maybe a little more if I have something earth shattering to report. That should give enough stage time to my limping ego. Of course, this is assuming I do lose at least ten pounds.
I’m not looking in that corner. No, siree. Where are my walking shoes?