I weighed in and got a very nice official number for the week. 201. I'm very, very happy with it. I was afraid it would be higher. Now I just have to behave this week and make up for the damage I just did.
(And in case you're wondering, the damage I just did was Chocolate Molten Lava Cake. Diane from Tasty Jewelry sent me the chocolate and the recipe and I whipped it up for dessert tonight. I can't tell you the last time I had cake. And it's been even longer since I've had cake I baked myself. It was delicious and I'm forever indebted to Diane for making this possible. Unless I weigh 206 next week, then I'm forever angry!!)
It's been an interesting day. I vowed I was going to stay away from the computer. I vowed I was going to get caught up on reading and/or dvd watching and/or television watching. None of that came true. I sat on the computer 99% of today. Now I'm mad at myself.
I had a mini-breakdown this afternoon, during my 1% off of the computra. I got a bigger than usual paycheck this week and with the money, besides paying some bills, I wanted to buy some new shirts. I'm still wearing my 3XT shirts to work. I'm down to an XT (though Ken claims I can fit into an LT now.) So I bought a couple new shirts last night. This afternoon Ken wanted to see me in one, so I tried it on. And the bitch doesn't fit right. The sleeves are way too short. This is a tall size, so the sleeves should be long. The shirts themselves are too short, too. They both fit me like a plain old XL. So I got depressed. I've always had clothing issues. My whole life. Growing up we were dirt poor, so my wardrobe was basically whatever was on sale at K-Mart or Caldor. Anything everyone else was wearing was something I might be lucky enough to have in two years when no one was wearing it. It taught me not to care about fashion trends. The Christmas before I moved out of my parents' house, all I asked for was clothes. My folks didn't have much money, but they always went overboard at Christmas to make up for the rest of the year. So the Christmas before I moved out, I wanted (needed) clothes. And I got clothes. Lots of them. Every single pair of pants were two sizes too small. Every shirt, same story. It got really uncomfortable opening presents after the second or third package. I think that's the Christmas I swore of Christmas. I'm still carrying around the hard feelings to this day. And that sucks.
When I got out on my own, I started getting bigger. That narrowed down my choices. Everything I liked or wanted didn't come in my size. I grew to accept that, too. But now that I'm at a what I consider to be normal size, why can't I still buy clothes? I know, it's just two shirts, but it still bothers me that it's impossible for me to shop. I shouldn't have to be subjected to ugly or ill-fitting clothing. So tomorrow it's back to the mall to return my purchases. I think I mentioned that Ken ordered me some new clothes. Now I'm petrified that I'm going to try them on and none will fit.