Didn’t exercise. Ate little cause we had little to eat. That’s how it went.
500 story words.
I am writing to you now over my plate of roasted chicken thigh and a stewy wine and carrot and cherry tomato concoction (leftovers, I might add) and this is something of an achievement. In that, I chose this of my own free will after leaving the house for writers’ group and having a fair amount of calories to allot for dinner.
I’ve felt a bit Lucy McGoose lately about the diet. Still doing it, still tracking, still exercising, but my heart and brain have been slowly melting down the broomstick of intention. The fact that I have all of this extra time, but not really any extra money, and in fact will have less money than ever…none of that seems to have sunk in yet. I feel as though I am floating, unable to affect even so much as a detectable increase in friction. In part. Sort of.
I have to qualify that because today was good insofar as I made choices that reflected my participation in the diet, lifestyle change, whatever. I did things and refused offers and drank water and thought about it without shoving it out of my mind. Without lingering regrets about not getting another teaspoon of ice cream or being given leave to go fall apart some fast food. It was just too many calories, it was just factual that the food equated to more calories than I had to give, so it wasn’t possible.
It was nice to feel it so clear in my mind. So straightforward to stop when you are supposed to stop.
So, yes, hello. How are you? I am well. It feels like I need to make introductions despite having been here every day – the writing has been fruitful and I knocked out another section for group. Perhaps this has been part of the disconnected sensation. So here’s the news: