Diet update

This morning I got on the scale for my weekly torture. I was simultaneously disappointed and breathing a sigh of relief. No change.

I've lost about 6 pounds since I've started my little endeavor. My pants are loose and I'm seeing a change overall, but as far as the scale goes I've been stuck for two weeks now. Given that I've had some really great (read: not healthy) meals, plus some wine, I should be happy that I have not gained. Of course, I've also increased the morning workout to where the treadmill tells me I've burned 433 calories (which is reinforced by my sweating like a stuck pig by the end), so you'd think that would count for something.

One night last week M and I got into a little fight about food. The boy knows that I am not a fan of leftovers. I never have been. So when he makes a crapload of food for dinner, the remnants typically sit in the fridge until he heats 'em up for another dinner. The only thing I hate more than leftovers is having to actually cook, so I go with the leftovers when he makes them.

In an attempt to eat better, though, I have been taking the leftovers to work for lunch. Which meant that when he went into the fridge to get them for dinner late last week, there weren't any. He blew up because his carefully-laid dinner plans were kiboshed and he had to quickly think of something fast and healthy that he could make. We had planned a busy evening and were now running up against bath/bedtime deadlines for Zoe. I blew up back that he always gripes about leftovers going to waste and he should be glad I'm taking them and not eating out all the time.

In the middle of the argument, he said that I should buy some lunch-only food, like cold cuts and cheese. I replied back that I don't really have time to make a sandwich in the morning, he suggested we make it the night before, and I made some snotty comment about eating a mushy, old sandwich for lunch. The sandwich idea was dropped in the ensuing apologies. (Our storms blow in and out with equal rapidity, and grudges are not held. Keys to a solid marriage, I think. That, and poor aim.)

At the grocery store this weekend, though, in an attempt to appease others before myself (why do I do that? it's always disastrous when I try.) I bought turkey and swiss cheese. To make sandwiches. For lunch.

This morning, I made my sandwich which made me run even later than I already was (Zoe announcing she had to poop before we left didn't help matters), so I was already resentful of the sandwich before we even walked out the door. At work, a colleague invited everyone to eat the lasagna she brought in. I declined, knowing that if I told myself I'd eat the sandwich tomorrow that it would never happen because by the time tomorrow comes I'll have talked myself into believing the sandwich is old and soggy and funky and inedible. And besides, I'm pretty sure part of the reason I didn't lose weight last week was the three nights of pasta I had. And the four glasses of wine. And flash-fried spinach. And bread served with some butter that had addictive properties. And frozen custard at The Custard Station.

So I locked myself into my office and began to eat my resented sandwich, at least content with the self-righteous knowledge that I was back on the wagon and eating healthy again.

Which is when I remembered that I don't like lunchmeat sandwiches. Unless they have a bunch of really unhealthy meat (salami!) and other sundry goodies on it. Basically, I like a nice Jimmy John's Italian Nightclub or nothing. Well, peanut butter and jelly is good, heavy on the peanut butter.

So my lunch today served only to stop my stomach from rumbling, only it didn't do so well at that as I think the cheese may be wonky (it didn't taste quite right) and now it's gurgling. My stomach, not the cheese. Or, who knows, maybe both. Food poisoning = Mother Nature's little diet aid. I really don't feel like eating anything for about a week right now.

This is my public confession, made in the hopes that it will motivate me to eat better this week, and also to come clean to M that no, I will most likely not be eating the 3/4 pound of turkey and 1/2 pound of wonky swiss in the fridge. I realize this negates my eating of the aforementioned leftovers and therefore not throwing away that food, but so it goes. Maybe he can find a recipe to use the turkey (i.e. disguise the turkey so it no longer tastes like lunchmeat turkey), and we can take the funky cheese back to the store.

Here's to healthy eating this week!