Ok peeps, it seems that finishing a book under deadline while working full time, battling allergies and puking babies and juggling the big kid's summer schedule.... I soothe my stress with Food and Lots of It. All of It, apparently.
I say this because I am getting big... big ... big.. biggety big...
I'm going to be very open and honest here (mostly I am, really) and tell you all that I'm at my highest weight ever. Yes, this includes while being 9 months pregnant.
Yes really. And can you pass me those butter tarts please. I'm just going to stick one in my back pocket so that it has the shortest route possible to MY BIG BUTT.
So, here's the deal.
I signed myself up for (no, not weight watchers, that would be kind of smart) a writers' conference. Not just any conference by the Surrey International Writers' Conference. I'm signed up, my flight is booked, time is booked off of work and my roomie has booked the rooms.
And I don't want to go fat.
Averaging a pound a week is safe... so, 15 lbs.
Except OF COURSE I'd rather that it were closer to 30 lbs. Probably not safe. On the other hand... it's not dangerous.
Probably not going to happen if I continue my little relationship with Rickards White. But you drink it with an ORANGE so it's part FRUIT & VEGETABLE. And one part GRAINS. Hmmmmm.
So I've been at the gym Wed/Thurs and I rode my bike Thursday night. Today was a bit of a write-off but I did some weights/lunges etc.. at home after the baby went to bed. Yes, ok, so I had a beer. But I have not had a butter tart. Even though they call to me with their sweet voices. The bastards.