Calibration Day

The food journal is back in action, as are the food scale and measuring cups & spoons.  As is typical when I start over, I'm feeling strong and optimistic.  What's that joke... "Quitting (or dieting) is the easiest thing in the world!  I've done it a hundred times!"  But as far as today goes, it was a god day filled with good, reasonable food choices.

One of my standard journal entries is "Cup of tea w/ sweetener (or sugar) & splash of soy creamer".  Is a "splash" the published portion size? Oh hell no.  The official serving size is 1 Tbsp.  My "splash" is 4 times that.  I measured it.  But it's okay.  I calculated the points value and it's only a single point per "splash".  I can work that in, no problem.  What causes me pause is the fact that 4 Tablespoons equals a 1/4 cup.  I know, right?  Sounds a lot worse, doesn't it?  A little tea with your creamer, Jule?  Yeesh.

The weather was really nice.  By "nice" I mean my nose hair didn't freeze as I stepped outside.  Harley and I went for a long walk and it was great.  Not a huge cardio workout, but the fresh air and dirt roads did my body a lot of good.  If not, my spirits sure had fun.

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The above paragraphs were written just before my internet started crapping out.  Turns out my modem was frying out after 7 years of relentless use.  Given it had a life expectancy of 3-5 years, I guess I can't complain.  But now I'm back, woo hoo!  New modem all hooked up and I'm ready to play catch-up!  Uhm... tomorrow.  It's almost 10PM and I'm ready for bed.

But I will say that the last couple weeks have been successful and a couple days ago I dusted off my exercise DVDs.  Of course I jumped in with gusto and am crippled with aching muscles ("Hey!  Remember us?  SURE you do!!").  But it's a good kind of pain.  Motivating, even.  I'm considering posting some "before" pix, you know, the headless kind?  We'll see.

Anyway, I'm back and will catch up on everything, likely tomorrow.

Yayyyy!  I'm back online!  La la laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

Friday Roundup

I was boppin' around the blog and saw a few loose ends that need attention.  So in no particular order of importance:

The story of the duct taped toes.  First off, duct tape is invaluable to the long distance hiker.  It patches holes in tents, backpacks, clothes... it holds boots together, it's used to cinch off sleeves and cuffs from black flies and ticks, and among a thousand other uses, it's used to protect blister-prone, or in my case every time, blister-afflicted toes.  Specifically, my big toes.  This has earned me the unenviable trail name, "Two Toes".  I considered softening the moniker into "T-squared" or "Double-T" but then the underlying meaning is lost and I'm kind'a proud of my brave toes.  If anybody happens to join me on a hike someday, you'll see me around day #3 with a fresh pair of socks and first-aid kit, tending to my feet and carefully wrapping my toes with duct tape.

Back in my old, former job.  Brief summary: I worked in my company's Quality Assurance group for 6 years before allowing myself to be recruited into Production (Quality Control).  After 2 years of that, I was ready to return to QA.  But it was not to happen.  A simple matter of headcount, or lack thereof.  So I brushed off my resume and landed a job with another company.  On my third day at the new place, I receive an email that said, in effect:  Your former QA position has opened up.  We'd love to have you back".  My first reaction: "YAY!"  My next reaction a nanosecond later: "Son of a B*tch!!"  I graciously declined the offer... for about two weeks.  Then I called up with fingers crossed and eyes clenched closed with hopefulness and asked if the offer was still on the table.  It was.  I'm now back in my former-former role and I am happier than ... a clam?  A pig in sh*t?  A bug in a rug?  No wait, rug bugs are cozy, that's right.  Anyway, that the story on that.

(Note: this is not me nor are these numbers close to mine... but they demonstrate a point I tend to forget.  It's NOT all about weight.)

My weight loss anti-progress.  I haven't stepped on the scale in over two weeks and frankly, I'm scared to.  I will, and I will report tomorrow.  But it's going to be ugly.  Now that I'm back at my former/current place of employ and position, I can now jump back on the WW at Work program and again link elbows with my office WW-buddy and resume my lunchtime jogs. That is, once it stops being arctically, insanely, unseasonably, unreasonably cold outside.  Seriously... it's not just an excuse.  The weather is insane here in New England... as it is everywhere lately.  So, tomorrow (still with very little fanfare), I will resume my relationship with the bathroom scale, and perhaps more importantly, the kitchen food scale.  And my running shoes.  And maybe a free-weight or two.  ~snork~

So what else... Uhm... I stopped by the vet yesterday and picked up Mr. Mee-Moo's ashes.  Or to be correct: Cremains.  He's now keeping company in the living room with my girls Charlotte and Waifer.  I'll be looking into some options for incorporating their ashes into jewelry or some other objects I can carry around with me.  Harley the Wonder Dog is doing great.  He doesn't seem distressed or depressed but I believe he notices Max's absence.

...Center shelf...

More fun...

...with Harley...

...The pita dog.

Seriously?

Snark alert!

My apology to anybody I may offend in the next few moments...

Were this not asked by a waitress, it would not have registered as so inane.  But it was, so it did.

Upon delivery of my Belgian waffle breakfast, I held up my finger in the universal "wait a second" gesture and asked "Syrup?" to which she replied "Oh yes!  Would you like real maple syrup or the all-natural stuff?"

Seriously?!

By the way, I only ate half... plus one extra bite for the road.

Quiet decision

With no more fanfare than is given the decision to sayyyyyyy, brush my teeth in the morning, I'm resuming mindful eating habits and a moderate exercise program.  I'm really just tired of being uncomfortable.  And perhaps more poignant; yesterday I found myself actively avoiding my own reflection in the bathroom mirror.  Yeah.  Whoa.

As before, I'll spend this week reacquainting myself with healthy portions, taking pix and remaining grateful for things I sometimes take for granted.  For example; I was reviewing the pictures I have stashed on my phone and saw reminders of my stay in the hospital 10 months ago... and how completely out of service I was.  Dependent.  Helpless.  Scared.

Remembering these things helps prioritize other things.

Will I ever again see these feet...

 

...back in these boots?

 

 

What I looked like when people were watching...

 

...What I felt like all the time.

 

I hate you.

I hate you too.

 

 

Suddenly the choice to nosh on an apple instead of a box of Gorilla Munch is an easy one to make.

 

 



Damage Assessment

Okay, so, directing my thoughts back towards health and weight, let's start with a moment of silence for all progress lost. ... ... ...

Thank you.

Now, by "all progress", I do mean "all".  No joke.  My weight and fitness are at pre-WW levels.  Not pre- this blog, not pre- previous blog, but pre-WW@Work. period.  You can guess all the things I'm NOT doing to have let that happen... and although I can probably still hang my hat on my accident as a decent excuse, it grows more lame with every week that goes by.  Another week of not journaling or measuring my food.  Another week of not exercising. Another week of no Yoga, walking, stretching, meditating... nuthin'.  Harumph.

And I hesitate to make any declarations of new starts and baselines because I'm weak, I tell ya, weak!!  Or as I told somebody yesterday while in my potty-mouth state: "I'm a pu**y".  I'm actually extremely unmotivated.  What's a girl to do?  Oh wait, that's right, I really don't care.

The only thing that keeps me from utter and total indifference is how uncomfortable I am in my clothes.  Bleh.  A constant reminder of the extra poundage.  Psh.

It's a habit "thing", yeah?  A "Nike" thing: just do it.  Just do it.  ~snork~

Well, now I'm just bitchin' because I have an audience.  I'll stop.  My apology.  Wallow, wallow, wallow.

One declaration before I sign off: I will pull it together, and soon!  I will!!

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A fun Mr. Max moment from last year or so...

 

Ooh look!

 

I wonder what the dog...

 

...finds so interesting...

 

... ... ...

 

Dogs are so dumb.

 

 

 

Life continues

So... Life after Max continues.  Yesterday I missed him desperately.  Today I woke up grumpy and with a terrible case of potty-mouth.  I dropped the F-bomb more times today than I have in the last 6 months combined.  Tonight I started taking up and throwing away his stuff; litter box, food bowls, scratching posts... leftover home-made, all natural food.  :-( 

In spite of everything though, my sadness, my concern that Harley is missing Max too, I'm not depressed. I'm not lost.  It's okay. 

But I am saving his two favorite toys.  Two plushies with hidden pockets for catnip; his carrot and his "man purse". 

To Max, the cat who would be King.

 

 

 

Fast friends.  2010

 

 

Saying goodbye... for now.  2014

 

 

ox

 

 

 

Mr. Max has left the building.

Max survived last night but around 2 this afternoon he was in terrible distress.  Gone where my romantic notions of him passing peacefully at home.  I brought him in to be euthanized, my poor boy.
So much to say but I'm a little numb right now.  It's hard to say much of anything.
I miss him.

Mr. Max continued...

It's been a very interesting couple weeks around here. 

I jumped (with gusto!) on the opportunity to return to my former employer and resume my former-former role.  I can NOT be happier.  More details later. 

My weight loss has not only stalled but I lost a lot of ground, in fact exceeding my "ground zero" number.  To that I say "Psh" and will provide more details later.

The immediate news is that Mr. Max isn't doing so well.  I'm not convinced he'll make it through tonight.  He doesn't seem to be in pain but he has almost no appetite, is very lethargic and wobbly on his feet.  For the past 6 hours or so now, he's been trying to find a comfortable spot, moving from Harley's bed to the floor, to the rug, back into the bed, back to the rug... spending between 10 to 30 minutes in each spot.  My poor boy. His inner/second eyelids are at permanent half-mast and his reflexes are slow.  I can fuss with his whiskers and look at his teeth without him immediately recoiling or brushing my hand away. 

At the same time, if he was in real distress, wouldn't he be looking for a hidden place to curl up?  He seems to want to stay near the rest of the family.  That thought brings me a little comfort, even if I am being anthropomorphic ... ~istic ...  Whatever.

I'm feeling very adult about it right now, but I'll be a wreck when all is said and done.  He's one of The Boyz.  He's Harley's hapless brother.  He's the cat that came along the same time I declared "no more cats".  He was my Mom's cat ... and I'm realizing she passed away this month nine years ago.  Yeah, I'll be a wreck, but that's the easy price to pay for our loving, purry, furry years together. 

Maybe I'm wrong and he's just having a rough day.  After a night's sleep he'll feel better.  I hope he does have a good night's sleep because I sure won't.

My apology for the tangent this blog has taken... but I'm grateful to you, my gentle readers.  Thank you.  Food, pictures and snark will resume soon, I promise.

zzzzzzzzzxoxzzzzzzzzz