The State of My Weight

Ah, yes. I should update you on the subject that this blog's supposed to cover. If I have ever tried to convince you that I am not an emotional eater, I will never try to do that again. Because I am. Once I got busy with my pro bono case from hell, I ate everything that was in a ten-mile radius. Except that this was offset by the whole three-day period in which I was so stress-tightened that I subsisted on iced tea and cottage cheese. Thanks, band. It wasn't comfortable, but it was effective. I didn't throw up a lot or anything; I just got that feeling where the band says, "Yeah, that's not going to happen, so why don't we try something else?" So I didn't push it. For once.

Moving on to an area in which I am not so wise, I have developed an intolerance for soda. My God, why hath thou forsaken me? No, I shouldn't look at it that way. I got the surgery thinking I wouldn't be able to have it ever again, so I guess I should count the ten months that I could as a temporary reprieve. Soda is pretty much an insta-barf for me, and my office waste can was very much relieved when I finally figured out that this reaction was not a temporary thing. The secretary that sits outside my office probably thinks I'm bulimic. Although band-barfs tend to be quieter than the old pre-band retching. Tastes better, too. Okay, that was probably too far.

I weighed myself this morning for the first time this week, and I weight 157.5. Not great, but considering the last few weeks, I'm fine with it. Time to regroup and start down again. I haven't been very good about working out this week. Today I have been very good abut my eating. Everyone's got to start (or restart) somewhere.

A Middle Eastern restaurant opened up right by my office, and they have a roast turkey platter that I've been eating a lot. That and pita with their delightful hummus. Yum. Makes for a good break from Taco Fresco.