Bad Case of Hot Dog Fingers.

o.2 lbs. From what I can figure, that's about a quarter cup of water, right?

If someone handed me a quarter cup of water to drink, I'd want more.

A quarter cup of water is hardly anything when it comes to cooking.

Most people dump more than that down the drain when they don't bother to finish the glass of water they've poured themselves.

It's a piddly amount. Hardly anything. Right?

Yeah, except when you gain it. Then it all of a sudden turns into a lead weight. An amount that you're sure is equal to the weight of the world. It's amazing how our perspective changes when it's a figure you don't want to see or hear. Your mind can distort that quarter cup of water into a litre, a gallon, a shitload.

That is what I was up this week, and for the first few minutes I was sad. Up again. This little plateau is really starting to suck. I had to remind myself that 0.2 would be gone in a matter of a trip to the bathroom. It was there because I spent most of this week sick with a fever and had the hot dog fingers to show how much excess water my body felt it needed to hold. Once I managed to work out the logic, the water cooler bottle turned back into a little measuring cup, everything is going to be alright.

Sometimes it's not up to others to talk you off the ledge. Sometimes, you have to tell yourself to get the fuck back in here before you do something lame.

I did manage to make it to the gym on Monday morning before the sick hit, and it was a great fucking workout. Motorhead's "No Sleep til Hammersmith" and a treadmill set to "crazy", I felt fantastic afterward. I'm really looking forward to attempting it all again this week.

Because we all just keep going. Measuring cups aside, we all just keep going.

xo
lb

PS: My roller skates should arrive this week. No matter where you live, you will hear me squeal. Guaranteed.