Ice Cream

Aislyn really wanted to go to Lickees and Chewies this weekend, and I haven’t been buying ice cream for the house, so we went. I shouldn’t have, but I had two scoops of peanut butter 180 in a waffle cone. It wouldn’t be so bad, except I had half of an eggplant parm sub for lunch, too.

And I have weigh-in tomorrow.

I’m expecting either no change or a gain, sadly. Even though this is probably the most active I’ve been in years. I guess I really need to get a grip on that middle of the night baloney.

I’m drinking too much Wild Cherry Diet Pepsi at night. So I’ll fall asleep, and then wake up and I can’t get back to sleep without a trip to the kitchen. I like it too much to stop.

But I guess I’d better. Otherwise, these 40 hours a week of hard work, these tens of thousands of steps per day, are all for naught.

Tailyn said I looked cute yesterday. I hope that’s true. It’s really hard for me to ever see it.

I wore a skort yesterday because it was really all I had left that wasn’t jeans. Of course, it was mistaken for a skirt, because it looks just like one, and it must’ve seemed like a peculiar choice for physical labor. But there was method to my madness. It was cooler than pants.

I have other ones a couple of sizes smaller, too, that I think were made for activity. Hopefully, my weight loss will pick up a bit, and those skorts will fit by Christmas. Or even by the end of winter would be okay. But that’s a good 30 pounds. If I can lose two pounds a week, I can do it.

I’ll bet I can do it.

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