cooking for one sucks.

I was at home for five days, and during that time I didn't have much regard for what I was eating. There was enchiladas, tamales (lots and lots of tamales), menudo and white bread, sandwiches and cheese cubes to snack on, mini bags of various chips (mostly just hot cheetos out of preference), brisket, potato salad, nachos galore...

It was a shit show. Oh, we can't forget about the liquor: I had to booze my way through the weekend to avoid a really uncomfortable situation. On the day I arrived, I made a pitcher of Long Island Ice Tea mix and I worked my way through it all weekend (countless cans of Squirt and Coke to boot). Also, I didn't exercise. Not once. I didn't even walk the dogs a single time.

Yesterday I got straight off the Megabus and a friend drove me directly to work. I hadn't eaten all day so I ordered Milio's, but they were busy and in the 45 minute wait I hit a bag of candy with such fervor... oh boy. I had such a sugar crash yesterday, it was horrible. And it did really bad things to my stomach too, but that didn't stop me from having a handful of vodka gummy bears at the end of the night.

When I woke up this morning I knew I just had to weigh myself and get back on the wagon, but the scale scares me after weekends like this. Scale reads: 268. Umm... SERioUSLY? I left Iowa City last week weighing 269, so after ALL that food and liquor and candy, I LOST a pound?

NO. FUCKIN. WAY.

I am so seriously encouraged that even without exercising, I'm maintaining my weight... because maintenance is key. This proves to me that I have a handle on serving sizes and I know my limit when it comes to the good stuff. YAY ME!



I set 3 alarms to make sure I woke up early enough for the gym today, but when I woke up I was not in a gym mood. I decided it was best to save my workout for after work since that's when I have the most energy anyhow. I laid in bed a little longer to appreciate being back home, then I took a nice long shower. I stepped out at 1:30 and realized I had too much time to kill, so I started to cook.

I missed having control over what foods I eat. While I was at my parents', I ate whatever they made; I could add salt or pepper, I could control portion sizes, but I really didn't have much say in what was cooked or how it was done. Don't get me wrong, the food was wonderful. But I like knowing exactly what I'm eating.

I'm actually energized to cook again, despite being in the middle of a weird travel schedule. Today I made broccoli and chicken stirfry with white rice. I made half of what I normally make, and then I split that in half to make two meals: I put one in the fridge for tomorrow, and I took one to work for tonight. I still have half a raw chicken breast to cook, and I have a small bag of yukon golds that I'm hoping to turn into latkes tomorrow. My goal is to clean out the veggies and whatever other perishables we have in the fridge before leaving on Monday.

Once we come back from Los Angeles, my work schedule goes back to normal and I'll have a week before classes start to re-acclimate myself to normal life. I'm looking forward to it.