2004-04-15, 11:38 a.m.
Sheís Outta Control
In an effort to get some control over something in my life Ė because there ainít no way that we can say I have control over my professional life Ė I am going to actually work, not dabble, at controlling my health and fitness. After a day like yesterday, in which I felt that I was dragged under and quite frankly violated by a wicked riptide of professional ups and downs, Iíve gotta get some semblance of control, over the aspect of my life over which I have control. Of. Bad grammar and rambling sentences are me.
So. Hereís the plan. Each day that I stay within my points, including activity points, I get to reward myself with a half a glass of wine. No longer will the medicinal application of red wine be a given at the end of the day Ė I have to earn it.
Each week that I stay within my points range, I get fresh flowers in my office. To kind of soften the sense of bending over on a daily basis. To give me something pretty to look at as I ride the rollercoaster of affordable housing financing from hell.
When I have accomplished two weigh-ins in a row at 110, I get new shoes.
When I have accomplished two weigh-ins in a row at 106, I get more new shoes. And this is totally going to work, because I NEED new shoes, dammit. Need them.
When I have accomplished four weeks in a row at 106, I get a new set of kitchen knives. Whoa Nelly Ė I know this is an extravagance of giddy self-indulgence and hedonism, but shit, I want a set of good kitchen knives (you know, the $30 jobbies at Target), and by God, I will weigh 106 for 4 weeks in a row if thatís what it takes.
Thatís my plan for controlling what I put in my mouth.
As for workouts, each week that I manage to squeeze in 5 workouts = earrings. I perused the earring selection at my beloved Steinmart yesterday, and I NEED new earrings, dammit. And they need me.
Once I hit 90 days at 5 workouts per week, thereís something wonderful in store for me, but I havenít figured that out yet. Once I identify something that I feel I just can't live without, I'll assign it to my 90 day goal.
Hereís the rundown for this week so far. I wonít get new earrings this week, for one. But I will get a half glass of red wine when I get home tonight. And I wonít get fresh flowers in my office Monday, but mebbe next Monday.
And apparently being in control of oneís diet and eating a nutritious fiber-packed breakfast = gastrointestinal regularity. More than regularity, in fact. So regular, that Iíll be back in a minute. OK, Iím back and I think I might weigh 110 now. Iím just sayiní.
Last night, DW made tacos with the evil pork ribs from hell. Actually, the meat is very delicious, and as long as you donít try to cool the meat juices in the freezer, Iíve nothing against it. He made a little piglet of himself. In fact, Iíll prolly eat the same thing for dinner tonight, juiced up with the meat juices that were salvaged from the disaster (no, I didnít mop it up off the floor and then wring out the mop), which are fully chilled in the fridge right now, with a thick layer of lard congealed on top. Mmmmm. Lard. The other white meat.
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