7 months ~ for 7 months I've been saying "I'll work out tomorrow", "this is my last fast-food trip", "no more snacking at midnight". And now, 7 months later, Im something sfot I'd like to cozy up with. Super fluff. Weighing in at 10 lbs more than I weighed when I left the hospital. Not okay.
I have two weeks before I need to put on a dress and pretend that I'm a grown up. So I'm telling myself that if I put this on the blog I'd have all of this accountability. Really, I mean it (I think). Should you see me before May 28th with a donut in my hand or a carbonated beverage in my mouth feel free to slap my hand, heimlich me, or use whatever means necessary to save my waistline.
I am making one last exception because tonight there is one remaining container of homemade tomatillo sauce mocking me along with its friend Wholly Guacamole. Tonight we dance.
Tomorrow, ... watch out. This isn't going to be pretty. I will apologize now for my short-temper, frazzled display, and outbursts of rage.
In two weeks this will all be worth it.
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