Optimism -- My Curse

Let's not allow the suspense to torture you all any longer. I begin where we left off -- What did Big K have for dinner last night?

I had two scrumptious scrambled eggs, cooked in butter with a tiny piece of toast. I wouldn't even call it a "piece of toast," honestly, because it was the heel of the loaf of wheat bread (Alvarado St -- good brand) and paper thin. I would have cooked the eggs in olive oil, but we were out. I was delighted. Eggs deserve butter. I didn't overcook them and they glistened in yellow perfection. I could have eaten about 6 more eggs, if given the opportunity, with or without toast.

I then had the last handful of chocolate chips -- half white choc., half semi-sweet (I recommend that mix). I didn't plan on eating them, but figured I'd better finish them off so I could start today off with a clean slate. Now there are no open packages of chocolate chips left in the house.

Because I had put them in a warm bowl from the dishwasher the day before, they had melted a little and were fused to the bowl, and needed to be chiseled out with a spoon. That might have dissuaded some folks, but I am made of sterner stuff.

All of this happened before 6:00 p.m. Earlier for lunch I had had copious amounts of tea and three pieces of homemade margarita pizza. I went to bed starving, but optimistic that I might be down to 129.5 this morning.

Unfortunately, when it comes to weight loss, optimism is my curse. This morning, I weighed 131, before and after my bath, even without my nightgown.

You see, I didn't actually see "130" on the scale yesterday, but "132." That was mid-day, after the copious amounts of tea. Being an optimist, I figured I probably weighed about 130.5 sans the tea and other bodily wastes. Turns out, I was wrong. So today, I jumped on the scale and found that I had cheated myself of my first victory. I probably did lose half a pound yesterday, but it was not the half a pound I hoped for. So now I have to lose 11 pounds in 5 weeks, which doesn't have the greatest ring to it, honestly.

Despite the crushing despair that went along with my lost victory, I persevered today. This morning I met my friends Mdme. L and Mdme. E for tea (Sounds more glamorous than it was. It was actually "tea with nose wiping/diaper changing."). Mdme. L put out a plate of homemade pineapple squares and biscotti. Mdme. L said that MY MOTHER said it was "OK to eat the biscotti because there is nothing in them." I am capitalizing MY MOTHER because MY MOTHER is to this blog what YAWEH is to the scriptures (That's God, for those of you who went to WPI or Nasson). If Mum says I can eat it, then I can. So of course, I did, with mint tea, and it was delectable. I did not have a second one, because I knew Mdme. L would tell on me, the skinny little stinker. So I had more mint tea. I am heartily sick of tea.

Then I went to the grocery store hungry, where I saw my sister-in-law, Mdme. S who was also probably hungry. She bought our kids muffins, and I ate a bite of my son's when I got home. It was chocolate, but terrible. She also watched a lady back into my car. Long story short, there was no damage to either car, and Mdme. S agreed, as did the lady, that it was the lady's fault. That makes three fender benders in the past year, only two of which were my fault (though I still blame that pole for that second one, in my heart of hearts). In conclusion, I should have had lunch before I went to the grocery store.

Tune in tomorrow and find out, "How much macaroni can a dangerously hungry girl eat? Will she cut up some vegetables and eat them instead? Will she ever reach her starting weight? Only YAWEH (and MY MOTHER) know!"