calling, calling, calling me home.

I'm really digging the numbered posts these days. Let's continue the tradition.

1.

I've been fighting tooth and nail to get back to my "pre-binge drinking" weight of 226.0. I feel like it's been harder than usual and of course I'm getting frustrated because all things considered, this weekend wasn't the worst calorie binge I've had and yet it seems harder than anything I've ever had to recover from. Boyfriend mentioned something that annoyed me at first, but the more I think about it the more it seems that he's right. He said maybe my true weight was never 226. WHICH IS RIDICULOUS. The scale said it, so that makes it true. Except... not.

::: CONFESSION TIME :::

I'm on two diuretics, and I'm painfully aware of it at all hours of the day. In case you're not familiar with this branch of pharmaceutics, they're also known as water pills. As in, the pills you take to drop weight fast (except it's not real weight loss because in reality all you're doing is dehydrating your body). And that's exactly what happened. I was subconsciously abusing my prescriptions to get results. Shit... that sounds bad. Let me make is super super clear: I was not taking more than the dose recommended to me by my physician; no, instead, I was purposely weighing myself after several trips to the bathroom, taking full advantage of the diuretic effect of my medications. I would wait to weigh myself until I had peed 3-4 times to maximize the water weight that was off my body.

The problem with water pills and weight loss is that as soon as you drink anything, you gain the weight back. It's not fat loss, it's not muscle increase, it's just a cheap way of tricking the scale, and what's worse is that it's only temporary. So there you go, lesson learned. It's no wonder that I'm struggling with my weight after a liquid binge, I must have been seriously dehydrated. Note to self: don't do that again.

Today's good news is that my weight is now 228.5, which makes it a quick 2.5 pounds away from 226. It's not nearly as bad as I thought. I can do this... I CAN DO THIS.

2.

I'm sitting at work, munching on a giant Greek salad and enjoying my 40th cup of iced raspberry tea of my own making, feeling pretty damn good about myself when my boss walks in. Just to let you know, we got a new employee fridge recently which is much bigger and better than our old one and delights me to no end. It should be of no surprise to anyone that I've taken over a significant amount of space storing veggies and cheeses and dressings (all my favorite work foods). My boss took a peek inside the fridge and asked if "the garden" (his words) was mine. Then, he went on a light-hearted rant about "rabbit foods" (also his words) and his secret to weight loss. Are you ready for it? It's a good one. His advice: eat a large "lunch" at 8:30am, nothing for real lunch at noon, and a small nibble before 5pm. Absolutely no eating after 5pm. He says you can have WHATEVER you want for 8:30am lunch, you can even eat two steaks if you want, any day every day, as long as you don't eat at noon or after 5pm. Also, according to him, exercise is unnecessary and all this country needs to fix obesity is to walk faster. Not farther, just faster.

It's a good thing I like my boss or else I might have punched him.

This is what real rabbit food looks like. Eew.

3.

Tonight is my last night at work until I leave on an extended weekend vacation of sorts. I don't normally work nights, but I made the concession in favor of a coworker who agreed to cover my ass so I could take five days off. Win-win, I guess. I'll be leaving for Des Moines first thing in the morning to help my mom tend to wedding-related festivities for her secretary (and my personal friend). Thursday is the bachelorette party, Friday is the rehearsal, and Saturday is the wedding. We're not family so we're keeping our distance on the actual wedding stuff, but my mom and I took full advantage of our respective positions as employer/friend to control the bachelorette party. My dad's prepping the food tonight and he's on his way to the store to buy all the supplies and he called me to see if I needed him to pick up anything for the bar. [Fun fact of the day: I once worked as a professional bartender, and for that reason I'm always expected to tend the bar at family functions.]

Dad says, "I have two handles of vodka and one of Bacardi. Is that enough?" Oh dear Jesus. If this is foreshadowing of what my weekend is going to be, then I'm in big trouble. I do have to say though, how awesome it is to work at the kind of place that allows me to spend my working hours planning a bar menu for a bachelorette party. Fo' serious. On my desk I have a long list of alcohols and ingredients with one word ("FRUITY") scrolled across the top of the page serving as inspiration for the cocktails that I am expected to provide tomorrow. I'm pretty sure I'm going to need several blenders. I'm pretty sure my boss is laughing at me.

4.

Can we please talk about this, please?!

I HAVE NO WORDS. NEVER MIND.