So, I decided the other day that I needed to get myself in check, 'cause that pesky scale insists upon telling me what I DON'T want to hear.
I already know I hate dieting. HATE.
It doesn't make me feel powerful or in control to limit my food intake - it makes me feel stabby. Weird, given what a control freak I am - you'd think I'd excel at dieting, but you'd be wrong.
Given these undeniable facts, I decided not to 'diet', just to keep a food/calorie journal, 'make better choices', and exercise regularly.
I made 'better choices' all day yesterday. Those better choices are leading me down a path toward a very BAD choice (namely, ripping out the throat of the first person to look at me sideways). My better choices have made me a grumpy, grumpy bitch. Lack of Oreos is a valid criminal defense in my opinion, y'all... it does things to you.
By the way, Starbucks? Your 'better choice' oatmeal freaking sucks. It tastes like wet sand, and the agave syrup is a joke. *grumble* Yeah. I'm on day two of better choices.
I'm only doing this to hopefully be able to stop taking my GERD medication when I drop a few. That is my end-game. I don't want to be skinny, I just want to not take this dementia-risk heightening drug anymore. There are only a handful of things that really scare me, and dementia is definitely one of them.
Here I go, day two. My wet-sand breakfast is down, lets see how much more I can take. Innocent bystanders in/around Austin - beware. Give me wide berth, for both my fat ass and my bad mood - one is only bad for me, the other is very bad for us both. LOL!