Sabotaged

Sometimes, you just CAN'T win . . .

I worked out this morning - an hour and 15 min. of good, slow burn; aerobics, pilates, and plenty of sweat.

Man, I felt strong - with a good heart-healthy breakfast, 2 tall glasses of water and 2 vitamins, I was off to work (felt like I was off to the races).

And then, today of all days, my dear co-worker decided to bring in a pan of fresh-baked, soft and cakey brownies . . .

Sigh . . .

Bridget Jones' Diary

Ughh. Day number 142.

This is a FAT day.

The kind of day that makes you cringe at everything you eat, as if each thing will automatically add 2 lbs to your mass upon swallowing.

This is the kind of day when you have trouble zipping up your pants.

This is the kind of day when you put your scale as far away from you as possible. It is your absolute WORST enemy.

This is the kind of day you exercise as much as possible and reward yourself with some ice cream. The exercise makes you feel victorious, so of course, you have to celebrate with a treat.

You burnt off all those calories anyway, right?

This is the kind of day that you just let it go, after all, its just one day.

Tomorrow it will be much better.

I promise.