Embiggening? Embiggenning? In any case, despite telling myself that I am going to start eating healthy, really, really, for real this time, my diet for the past week has consisted of:
- homemade peach tart
- homemade ice cream cookie sandwiches
- more cake
Which may explain why I’ve gained five (FIVE) pounds since moving here. Living at my mom’s may be delicious, but it’s certainly not good for my waist line.
A few weeks—okay, months—ago, Cris and I decided we were going to start the Couch-to-5k plan. We were certain. We were dedicated. We even spent a bazillion dollars are REI on running stuff. Witness the shoes:
That’s how dedicated we were to running every other day.
As of today? We’ve done the ‘Week 1 Day 1” plan three separate times. And that’s about it for that. The crazy toe shoes sit by door unloved, the Jillian Michaels dvd gathers dust by the tv, and I sit here with my ever-widening ass planted the couch.
Not cool, lady.
I’ll get my ish together once we’re settled in the new house. I swear.
That is, if we get the house. Some last minute ridiculousness on the day before we were supposed to sign has caused a flurry of panic and stress and despair.
Which would be fine, if I was one of the people who stopped eating when stressed instead of one of those people who stress-eats her way through a gallon of ice cream and self-loathing.
I don’t know. Fingers crossed or something. I’m going to bed.