Electric Bread: Day Twenty-Three

I was reading a past post – The Mayor of Jerktown – where I talked about being proud of myself for not saying fuck it.  For, to borrow that horrible phrase made horrible by a maleficent ex-president, staying the course.  So far as I could see that course going.  Eventually, that track hit a snag and down I went again.  And I am as glad now as I was then, though today has not been entirely easy.

Photos from last night arrived on my desk first thing.  I smiled and took a couple pictures last night, I remember thinking, oh, maybe these will reflect all of this weight loss and hard work.  So I glanced sideways, half-looking and still felt the usual disappointment.  I can maybe see the slightest of differences.  My body just doesn’t…the flash…a wonky eye, the uselessness of one’s foundational garments.  For the most part, I thought that as I was crowing about my successes, my body was just rearing back for a mind-body 1-2 punch.  My hair was nice, though.

Work went speedily and I tried to get ahead where I could and send out the correspondence and ignore the obnoxious features this time of year brings out in those around me.  I ate my low-carb tortillas.  Drank some water.  Stared at the work computer screen until it was time to go to the dentist where they pronounced me not well, but better.  And in four months, I will get to pay exorbitantly for the privilege of having any qualified professional get to swing by and put their fingers in my mouth to verify that my teeth are not falling out of my head.  I have not have any pain in my gums since I was treated, but they are occasionally sensitive or puffy or the tiniest bit of blood will drip into the sink.   There, unlike with the diet, I do see a marked difference.  Which is good, because I need my mouth regardless of the fat and carb content of the food that gets put in it.  Gumming my meals is also probably not a super compelling turn-on for most men.

This, however, meant I got to go home early and given that my oral care was dealt with, this was about all I needed to be happy.  Next week is a four day week, and then it’s the four-day Thanksgiving week.  Thanksgiving is a planned deviation where I’m not going to eat on plan at all just on that one day.  Even though the next day is my little sister’s birthday, I have to forgo the cake.  Also, once I am done with Assassin’s Creed, I’m going to use some of the time I’m spending here on making sure I get some exercise in of some kind.  I can eat more if I do that (provided my appetite returns) and my metabolism will start dealing with some of this weight that is going to hang on no matter what I eat.  I want to have a picture that I don’t feel like I want to destroy.

 

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