'Merican Thanksgiving!

Hey all, down 0.8 this week. Not great, but definitely not the slap in the face of the 1 lb gain and the 0.2 loss of the past couple weeks.

Tonight my in laws are holding an American Thanksgiving dinner for me, how sweet is that?! Generally I find myself missing both so a few years ago I started having one for American Thanksgiving. I only indulged in Turkey once a year, and I love turkey. I made sure I had my damn Turkey! Ha!

I'm looking forward to tonight's dinner, although it'd never compare to my mom's or even my own. Canadians cook so differently!

Hope this finds everyone well :)

Not so happy hump day

It's a new record my friends. I think I was all happy go lucky for two freakin days.

Last night, yeah yeah I'm one of those, I stepped on the scale and saw 217. I seriously almost started crying. Stepped on this morning and saw 215, and then I got angry. Big surprise right. I swear if that fucking scale had a face I'd punch it right in its nose.

I'm finally getting more work in as Ian's caught up, and I've been working my ass off with my workouts. Shredding every morning then pilates at night, with the exception of Tuesdays. It's shit like the stupid vaginaface scale that keeps me from enjoying working out. How the fuck are those numbers going up? How is it that I can barely move my ass from the fucking couch and drop 1-2 lbs a week? Before I left for WI I was down to 205. What the fucking fuck?!

Today is a bad bad day....bad day.

Monday

Good morning lovelies!

This morning I hit the snooze on my phone for an hour, crawled out at 6 am, ran downstairs and hit up Jillian for some early morning lovin, then got the kidlet out of bed and fed while I showered. Had him to school for twenty after seven.

It's quarter after eight and now I have to get my ass in gear to eat. Seriously.

Today marks a new day my friends. Today begins the Monday-Friday Shred. Wish me luck!

meh

down 0.2.

I guess it's a start. And at least it isn't a gain.

Kind of a slap in the face though.

Fucking scale.

It was better

Tammy advised I have hubby take the evil bag of bite size butterfingers and put them out of sight. And then move on. Done and done.

Now my problem is that I'm a daily scale peeker. And I know my bit o' binge would not have fucked me that much this week. However my numbers on the scale are still up. If not higher. I am not looking forward to WI tomorrow.

People keep telling me to take a breath, when you first start exercising blah blah blah. Here's the deal, I'm taking measurements tomorrow soon. If I don't see a drop in the scale in the next couple weeks I'm going to go spastic.

Today sucks

I'm a bad partner in crime.

My body is rejecting me.

Tomorrow I shred. And stay away from the butterfingers. And drink water and sleep properly.

Tomorrow will be better.

Arachno-fucker!

First off I must say I think I was a bit zealous, and not totally clear, about my exercise intentions. I discovered yesterday that there's no way in hell I'd be able to do a workout Tuesday nights and be up for 5 am on Wednesday. Reason being I have meetings that run until usually 9:30-10 ish pm. Now I know some of you are hardcore like that and will still do it, I however need wind down time after a work out to be able to sleep, and only after a low intensity workout. So there's all that, also Saturday and Sunday are my days off. I need days off. Next month when Tammy and I do our Shred off (ps if any of you would like to join just drop me an e-mail!!!) I will be working out the Shred only on the weekends, but this normally no way. My body needs to repair, those are my days.

On to the arachno-fucker!

Yesterday at work I encountered many of the evil bastards. The first one was easily destroyed, the second was the size of a hippo and had fangs bigger than Texas. I swear the fucker hissed at me! So I grabbed the broom and ninja swept his ginormous ass into a hole in the floor! Yeah! I was feelin pretty good until his rhino sized partner in crime crept up on me. Eyes glowing bright red, legs dancing and ready to spear me in the heart. I screamed and my wonderful hubby told me to suck it up. Which immediately earned him a death glare. My death rays must not be working because he completely ignored me, the bastard. So with the aid of the same spidey killing broom I swept his ass out from the corner and stomped him. I saw blood squirt everywhere but still felt the fucker crawling on me...which called for a well deserved cigarette!

Another of the fuckers came running toward me, front legs raised, ready to attack, so I stomped his ass too. One smaller one, I'd say the size of a gator, I was able to work around...very very carefully...but we laid out boundaries. I told him he was to stay in his corner and I'd stay in mine...and then he disappeared and I got the heebie jeebies.

Then I hear my husband. My sweet, wonderful, loving, dear husband. He yelled out something to me that I was unable to hear as the radio was nicely cranked. I said what? He yelled again...huh? Then he's behind me and he says, very loudly, "You should see the size of this spider!" I turn around and in his hands are 40 flying legs and giant bulgy eyes and fangs and disgustingness. I screamed, nearly threw my tape measure at hime (I regret not doing it) and ran. The ass hat laughed. A lot. The spider was a tree seed. Like poplar fuzz type shit.

I think I'll file this for reasons to divorce! Ha!