Last Sunday Of September

Today we planned on driving over to Massachusetts to spend the day with Ken's mother. Haven't seen her in a while and we were going to do our favorite activity with her.... Breakfast Brunch! Plans changed last night when she called to postpone until next weekend. Someone came up that she needed to do. I'm not complaining, either. I needed a day to do nothing. Really bad. Last weekend was with my family and I'm still recovering from that! What I should have done was sleep in. Instead, I set the alarm for 6:30 so that I could get up and go walking before the rain started. By 9am, I had not only walked for an hour, but I went grocery shopping and read the paper. I felt accomplished. I spent the rest of the morning playing online, even though I swore today was going to be a computer free day.

I really wanted to do two things this afternoon, and neither really happened. I wanted to make a dent in the pile of recent comics on my nightstand that keeps getting bigger and I wanted to take a nap. I only read two books and I managed to fall asleep for approximately ten minutes before Ken woke me up. So I don't think either goal counts as accomplished.

For dinner tonight we decided to find a place we've never been to before. We found a place online in Chatham, NY that looked interesting called Jackson's Old Chatham House. It was weird. We walked in and it was what looked like a redneck bar. At the back was the dining room. It looked like I had just walked into my mother's house. Flags and eagles and that kind of shit adorned the dining room, as well as taxidermied deer heads. A lot of them. But we didn't let that stop us. The menu featured entrees ranging from $15 to $30. I chose a seafood sampler plate which had a lobster tail, shrimp, scallops, steamers, muscles, scrod and something else. The plate was massive. Ken got one of the biggest plates of chicken parm I've ever seen in my life. The food was simply awesome and more than made up for the fact that I felt at any moment the rednecks from the bar were going to come back and beat the shit out of us. It's nice trying something new. The last new place we tried a couple weeks ago we've already been back to twice. Ken suggested we do this more often, rather than going back to the same old places over and over again. Plus it gets us out of the house, which is always a good thing.

Two nights ago I had my most vivid soda drinking dream yet. I think my subconscious is trying to tell me something. In the dream I had a can of Diet Coke and I didn't care.

Since it's Sunday, it's weigh in time. Second week in a row I scored a 193. I fought long and hard this week to try to drop a couple of pounds. I think I suceeded. Sure, I scored the same weight as last week, but for most of the week, I was higher than that. I'm so desperate to see that pre-vacation weight that it's completely consuming me and that's bad. It's funny, but my depressed rant about weight from the other day is completely insane. I'm more insecure about my weight now than when I was 300 pounds. Hell, I was completely content with myself when I was 300 lbs. Part of that may have been because my scale couldn't handle 300 lbs and lied to me, telling me I was 290. I'm kind of sick of being so hard on myself. I'm not going to let up much, but I need to realize I'm driving myself insane with the way I'm thinking. I need to be just hard enough on myself to keep myself on track. That's not asking too much, right? I'm still feeling rather full from dinner. I'm sure I'm going to see a number that will make me rage when I weigh myself before climbing into bed. Need to not rage too hard. And need to hope I see 197 (or less). Keep your fingers crossed.

Man, this is boring, isn't it? I feel bad for you if you made it all the way through this.