Winding down

Man, another little gain this week, which sucks. But, whatever, it's just a mere 0.8. No tantrums, no swearing (ahah yeah right, it'll happen, probably not about the gain though).

Two more weigh-in weeks to go before I fall off the scale radar (but definitely not the wagon). I'm so going to miss my weekly meetings. Three months is going to be hard to do when I haven't missed a weekly meeting in well over a year. I'm glad that my brain is thinking ahead to when I'll be able to go back and see those great people every week.

Notice the terminology used: WHEN I go back, not IF. There's no way in hell I won't go back. Despite the need for me to be laid up for three months thanks to the surgery, the minute I'm able to go back, I'll be there with fucking bells on. (Ah, there you are, profanity. Didn't take long...)

I'm at a plateau again, but I'm not freaking out at all. Mildly annoyed, yes, but not freaking out. Part of me is winding down to surgery time, where I know things are going to change a lot. I have no idea how this recovery period will affect my weight. I know that it went down a fair bit after the original big surgery because I was a starving student. Now I'm a starving professional, so not much change there. And, others will be doing me shopping for me (talk about keeping shit real, all public, all the time), and since I'll be limited to what i can carry to and fro, portion control will be a big deal. Of course, the scales of weight loss justice must be balanced, and that's where sitting on my ass not able to do much activity comes into play. Hand weights, yes, everything fun, no.

But I'll still be fighting the fight, which is most important. And leading up to the surgery, it's a real "que sera sera" attitude. I'm still in it to win it, but I won't beat myself up over the little gains or losses.

xo
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