Traveling Woes

So I went to a professional development conference this weekend with my school in Houston, Texas. We stayed in the hotel where the conference was and (obviously) had to eat out the whole time.

Needless to say, I gained quite a bit of the weight I lost back.

The choices I made could have been better. They were better than they used to be, but still could have been better. I got on the scale today and felt like I wanted to die. 8 pounds. How is that even possible?? In 4 days? I remember when I had lost weight before and went home for a week, pretty much ate whatever I wanted and only gained 4 pounds.

I feel like the weight swings much more with this system of weight loss. It was usually pretty damn steady when I used Weight Watchers. Don't get me wrong, I am not going back anytime soon to WW, because I really don't want to spend the money.

I think I know where the problem was: desserts. Each day they gave us lunch (which was 2), there was dessert on the table. Only once out of the 4 times we got dinner did I get dessert, and we were at the cheesecake factory (it had to be done).

Then once I got some Godiva chocolate to enjoy. 7 pieces (oops).

And yesterday at the airport, I had this sugary frozen coffee drink that made me feel like I wanted to DIE. Seriously. I made sure my seat had a baggie.

I kept telling my coworkers I needed Violet there to smack me around and tell me to get my shit together.  (The last time she saw me eat a cookie-last Thursday- and said "Justine Noel McNeilly, put that cookie down!!!" Just in case you wanted a picture of this cutie in your mind, she looks almost exactly like the cute little Hoo in The Grinch Stole Christmas. But she is cuter and her teeth aren't that big lol.)



Yes. Today, sick at home, I feel like a complete and utter FAILURE.

The good news: in this dark place and feeling, I am not wanting to turn to a gallon of ice cream for comfort. Instead, I thought, "Damn it, I really need to work out this week and be really good."

This reaction is a win for me. I haven't ever responded to a weight gain like this. It has always been, "Well fuck, why go on? I should just become morbidly obese, get 72 cats who will be equally as fat, and then eventually be eaten by them when I die of a massive heart attack."

Before I left, I could actually see a difference in the mirror as I brushed my teeth. My bathroom has lots of mirrors in it (usually a bad thing) but as I stood there brushing my teeth in the morning haze of Why The Fuck Am I Up This Early,  I could see that I was slimmer.

So I shall forge ahead of this set back, and not beat myself up too badly. No matter what, Violet will give me a great big hug tomorrow and tell me she loves me even when I screw up. And instead of eating a whole pizza to drown my woes, I will eat like a freaking Greek God and tell my scale to go fuck itself.


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