211.6

Holy schnikes!

GPOYW: A Day Late...AGAIN

For the last few days, I haven't really known what day it is. On Tuesday, I was sure it was Wednesday. Yesterday, I thought it was Tuesday. Basically, I'm (somewhat) losing my mind. You have to remember that my day usually begins around 3:30 AM and keeps going, and going, and going until at least 9:00 PM. I put an end to my early bedtime (I used to go to bed around 7:00 PM if I had to open the next day) when I realized how much family time I was missing, how much extra work it made for the Hubs, and how much it made me feel like an 86-year-old retiree from Boca Raton. And I feel like that enough already, what with the kaftans and short-term memory loss. Add to this the fact that I almost always work both Saturday and Sunday, so there is no "TGIF!" or "Oh crap, it's MONDAY," and that's why I don't usually know what day it is.

Anyway, here we are on Thursday (are you sure?!), and it dawns on me that I've missed yet another self-imposed photo deadline. I've really been dropping the ball on these. I guiltily snapped a shot of myself this morning, after I finished getting ready for Job #2:

Look at those shifty eyes. GUILT! GUILT! they scream.

First, I'd like it noted that my hair has improved considerably. The weird La-Femme-Nikita-Before-Her-Makeover 'do is pretty much gone, and it's growing out into a decent bob. I'm sure Kim Vo would have something to say about my roots, but he can suck it. I spent $5.99 and 25 minutes on that hair color, peeps. As long as you don't see any grey, I'm happy.

Second, this picture really reminds me why I hate my glasses and have wanted desperately to switch back to contact lenses. It's such a drag to spend any time putting on eye makeup, only to have it completely camouflaged by my huge (crooked, ghetto-tastic, half-broken, LensCrafters-SUCKS) glasses. Fortunately, Hubs has agreed to let me use a small chunk of our tax return to set myself up with new contacts...can I get a HALLELUJAH?!

Finally, and not to toot my own horn too hard or too loud, but my skin is seriously improving. I've been using this amazing skin care line from the spa -- it's all organic, no crap chemicals, not full of water and alcohol -- and after only about a week, I'm seeing a huge difference. As far as I'm concerned, this alone makes the job at the Spa worthwhile.

Speaking of the Spa, everything's going well there. It's incredibly low-key, even when stuff gets a little crazy (and it does). I'm really, really happy there.

Now, if only I could figure out a way to keep my days of the week straight...

214.6

Teeny, tiny, itty bitty loss. But still a loss!

GPOY...Thursday?

So yesterday was kind of a cluster. I started working a second job last week, and some miscommunication about that job (which has since been cleared up) freaked me the eff out. As a result, my regular blogging schedule went out the window, along with a hefty chunk of my sanity.

I woke up this morning determined to have a better day, and determined to make up for yesterday. Here's me around 4:00AM, getting ready to head to Job #1:

Anybody want to guess where I work? Heh.

And here I am a few hours later, getting ready to head to Job #2:

Wow. Not bad!

My second job is at a wonderful new spa opened by my two favorite instructors from massage school. I'm working at the front desk for now, and picking up massage clients here and there. There are plans for me at this place, big plans. Plans about which I am RIDICULOUSLY EXCITED. Let's leave it at that for now, shall we? Ahem.

Anyway, my day did indeed turn out to be a thousand times better than yesterday. There were several nice bonuses: new shoes, sushi lunch, free skincare products from the amazing organic line we carry, and a hilarious eyebrow-desquirreling session. (That's right. We call it DESQUIRRELING. Doesn't that sound so much more fun than "waxing"?) The result was a very happy Fattie:

Significant Reduction in Squirrelyness

You might be wondering why I chose to write about this in my weight loss blog versus my regular blog. Well, kids, my work has a profound impact on my happiness, and my happiness is directly related to how I eat. Unhappy Fattie = Overeating Fattie. Pretty simple. In addition, working two jobs doesn't give me any time to lay around and watch movies, zone out in front of the computer (hence, very little blogging lately), or spend half my day eating when I'm not hungry.

Today? Today was awesome. BEYOND awesome. Drama resolved, plans set, money in my pocket, and a smile on my face. I'm looking forward to a lot more days like this...work that I truly love, and homecoming kisses and hugs from my boys.

That's the best part, you know. I get to end my day with this:

My little man. So happy to see me when I walked in the door. So happy to see ME happy. And that, my friends, makes it all worthwhile.

214.8

And now I have to go to work. Mwah!

216

Hooray for losing almost a full pound! Amazing what happens when you get out of bed.

I've had a really hard time the last two weeks. For some reason, when I take heavy-duty painkillers, and for a couple of weeks after I stop taking them, I have INSANE sugar cravings. I experienced this after my hernia repair surgery last year, but I don't think I was as aware of it at that time. What makes these cravings different than a regular sugar craving is that the usual fixes (fruit, protein, water, exercise) don't make them go away. The only thing that stops them is, well, sugar.

They hit suddenly, these cravings, and they send me into a near panic. Before I can blink, I'm rooting through my kitchen cabinets, desperately trying to find a cookie, or a piece of candy, or some long-forgotten stash of sugary goodness. Fortunately, I don't keep stuff like that in the house anymore. I think the only candy-like thing here is a bag of semisweet chocolate chips that I keep on hand for baking, and (so far) I've not touched those. UNfortunately, I have a wonderful, caring, obliging husband who, upon hearing me say that I'm DYING for something sweet, asks what I want and goes out to get it. Limeade from Sonic? Sure. Milkshake? Of course. A candy bar from the 7-11 down the street? Done. Before I know it, I've inhaled an extra thousand calories. I finally had to ask him to tell me no when I demand this stuff. I even agreed to write "I will not get mad at you when you tell me NO" on a piece of paper, a sort of Fattie Rage Protection Order. My poor hubs.

Anyway, I'm determined to get back on track again. I picked up a small notebook at Target last night, to replace the food journal that I lost (read: stopped using), and I'm writing down everything I eat -- like Smith asked me to MONTHS ago. I've been cleared by my surgeon to resume "light" exercise: walking and jogging are okay, heavy lifting and ab work are not. So, there's a run on the schedule today. And tomorrow. And the next day.

Oh! And a big shout out to my mom, who took me out last Saturday for coffee, a pedicure, groceries, and new running shoes. My mom is one of my biggest cheerleaders, and I'm beyond grateful for her. YAY MOM!

GPOYW - Kissy Face!

My Best Guido - 2.24.2010

Gym. Tan. Laundry.

Oh, and that's a new shirt, from the REGULAR SIZE SECTION of OldNavy.com. No more plus sized shirts for me! Woo!