Last week’s weight: 220 lbs.
This week’s weight: 220 lbs.
De-bigulation stalled at 22% complete, due to 48-hour Taco Bell/Ben&Jerrys incident.

I’ve got a bad habit of not really eating anything (a cup of coffee, an Odwalla bar) up until it’s time to get on the train and go home at 3:10PM. By then I’m a highly-tuned eating machine and I’m ready to start yelling when I eat, like Cookie Monster: “HOMF! HOMF! AAAAARGH!” Thursday, I hadn’t really had anything at all until afternoon (dumb idea, I know), and I had 24 points to burn. Six hours later, I was on the far side of 66 points, groaning like Templeton the Rat after a trip through the fairgrounds.

Now, I’m not really ashamed of myself — I wasn’t, like, sitting in my car and crying while I ate three supersized number ten meals, or anything — but I’m starting to realize that one of the main reasons I was skinny in college was that I didn’t have any money. Now that I’m a Rich White Man with a wallet stuffed with oof, I’d better not have my eat on when I walk past Taco Bell, or I’m gonna do some damage.

Okay, my wallet isn’t really STUFFED with spondulix (except compared to college), but ten bucks is enough to halt your Weight Watchers progress for the day, and then when you bring home Ben&Jerry’s for your beautiful wife who has a cold and needs a treat — and you don’t have the iron willpower that comes from a couple days’ momentum — why then, you eat the other half of that pint of mint chocolate chip, don’t you? Yeah. Yeah, you do. And you go ahead and go for the tuna melt the next day, with the fudge brownie afterwards.

I’m reminding myself that this is a long-term project, and that these will just be blips unless I let them derail me for good. Which I hope doesn’t happen; looking at all that camping equipment that’s gone unused since 2003 makes me want to get outdoors more, and not in a puffy, sweaty, my-waistband-gets-tight-when-I-tie-my-shoes kind of way!