Dieting with PMS

I should know better. I set a goal.

*June 1st- start diet.
*July 1st -(when Auntie Rissa starts watching Av) start exercizing.

It’s there, in a bulleted list.  I’m a list maker and I like the check mark next to things that means completion of that item. I plan. I hope. I think positive thoughts. I didn’t take into consideration the toll that hormones would take on me today.

I started everything right. Egg white Jimmy Dean sandwich. 210 calories. Ok. Good job me. 16 oz of water before 10am plus my vitamins. Someone high five me!

Then I had a hostess cupcake.

I don’t wanna discuss it at length, but let’s say this…I had a conversation with it about not settling on my hips and all that “moment on the lips” crap. We became friends. And then I left not a crumb behind and licked my figers.

Ok. Get back on the horse. Had a salad for lunch. Mental note-do the stairs 15 times when you get home and say farewell to that little blip in your day.

More water.

No snack. (Mistake number 2).

Go to the convenience store on break for smart water. Come back with butter finger as well as the water. 

It was like I was in a trance when I bought it. I barely remember doing it. The wrapper was being crumpled and tossed before I even registered what I had done.


Ok. Good dinner. Psych myself up to cook. Something healthy!  With whole grain and veggies!

Had to pick up Av (Rob was in no state to do it). Back up on both sides of the freeway. Accept defeat on the way home and order pizza AND stuffed cheesey bread from the car (yes I used my blue tooth! Pfft!).

Get home, have fruit snacks….and rest of werther’s carmel corn. More water.

Flush out the sugar!!

Pizza and cheesey bread…and one last cupcake.


I could tell you about how I justified all my poor choices (grumpiness, tiredness, sore boobs…tmi?!), but I won’t.  I’ll just say…tomorrow is a new day…and at least I’m hydrated.

Damn Hostess.


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