Let’s talk about what I did in the past 24 hours.
I ate like a crazy and sat around, talking to some boy all day.
I was defeated by a 20 piece McNugget (If anyone can eat all of them, it’s me, and I failed.)
Went to bed too late.
Woke up too late (I even set my alarm early…but then didn’t switch the button to “alarm.”)
I ate a relatively healthy breakfast.
I went for a mile walk and ended up jogging 3/4 of it (in 15 minutes, which doesn’t sound impressive but I’m usually a 19-20 kind of girl)
And now I am here, sweating profusely, yet blogging.
Oh, and watching Food Network. New 12:30 tradition around these parts.
I’ve recently learned that I am going on a vacation to the St. Louis area in November to go visit aforementioned boy because it has been entirely too long since I made my presence known in the midwest.
I will have to fly. I am terrified of flying. I generally sit there shaking, scared that the plane will just fall out of the air for no reason. It’s like one big panic attack that lasts however many hours it takes for me to find my gate all the way until I get to baggage claim (and if I’m flying into Atlanta, however long it takes to get off that god forsaken highway.)
Other fear? Not fitting in the seat. I’ve had some close calls. I’ve only ever needed an extender one time, and I totally lied to the people I was sitting next to and said something like, “Damn, I lost 200 pounds and it still doesn’t fit!” to make myself feel better. haha. They were much nicer about my assfat encroaching in their territory after that.
I am also terrified they’ll be all “lol fatty needs two seats sorry” or kick me off the plane a la Kevin Smith.
I haven’t worked out with so much determination as I did today, knowing that I will have to squeeze this ass into one of those seats. Economy class should be considered cruel and unusual punishment.
I can’t remember if I flew when I weighed more than this. I’m positively frightened that I will not be allowed to fly or something. Ugh.
I’m going to do it anyway. And probably get fired for taking more vacation time. But, hey, what the sense in having it if you don’t take it?
I’m imposing another fast food ban starting today. It’s been ridiculous. I have exactly 30 minutes for a lunch break. Instead of making something tasty at home, I tell myself it’s totes okay to take 27 of those minutes to go get some McDonalds. Unexceptable.
So. Here we go. 30 days again. If it has a drive-thru (not counting Starbucks), it is off limits until at least August 18th. Hopefully until forever, but I know how completely unrealistic that is.
I suppose I should shower and get all this exercise stank off me before going to work. I bet my coworkers would appreciate it.