Terrible Timing

Yesterday's Eats: [1000]

• Breakfast:  PBJ (310), Coffee (50)
• Lunch:  RF Cheese It's (150)
• Snack:  Yoplait (100), Granola (100)
• Dinner:  Ground Beef Casserole (200)
• Snack:  String Cheese (80), Pecan Twirl (100)

Just barely made my calorie goal.  I was so tired at work yesterday I snacked just to keep my eyes open.  I got drawn into someone else's conversation with "She can eat anything she wants....I know, you are so thin."  OK.  Do you realize how untrue that is?

I was about ready to give up last night when I stepped on the scale and saw 119 which was a full pound up from what I weighed that morning and when I got home from work.  This is the part where I accept my fat fate and just live with it.  My body will not budge anymore.  It's over.  I weighed one more time before bed and I was 118.5 which gave me hope that I would at least maintain.  I finally got a little gift this morning when the scale flashed 117.5.  I smiled then immediately thought about my happy hour tonight and how it really can ruin everything.  Once again the eve of a breakthrough coincides with some social outing that is sure to ruin it all.  Timing is evil.  But the truth of the matter is that it's not timing.  It's me and my lack of self control.  I plan to eat my usual breakfast and then forgo all work snacks.  I have got to give my best go at not blowing it even if chances are I will.  Technically, I can consume about 640 calories at happy hour and still be at 1k if I do that.  This means 2 glasses of wine max and ONLY cheese and tortilla chips with some veggies.  No extra snacking on friends appetizers.  If I do that I will be ok with myself even if I go over 1k.  If I gain I will force myself to do an exercise video to compensate.  I have a totally free Saturday tomorrow so no excuses.

I'm annoyed because hubby made a bunch of oatmeal for work and then came home wednesday and left a big dirty oatmeal coated pot in the sink.  The two crock pots he used are still sitting on the counter-they don't look dirty but he says they do need to be washed.  The two pots he did clean are still sitting on the counter too.  It just looks junky.  There are also other dishes added to the pile from the rest of the week and he just left it there.  I have to use the kitchen too and it just bothers me that he doesn't have the common courtesy to just clean up after himself.  He is so messy and it drives me nuts.  He doesn't like to put anything back where it came from when it would be so easy to do so.  Just clear off the coffee table.  Stack your papers nicely.  Quite piling your shoes so I have to step over them every time I go in and out of the kitchen.  The extra bedroom is full of his crap.  Folded laundry from weeks ago that he won't put away and whatever he wore and just threw on the futon or on the floor.  His overnight bags from his out of town trip.  That room has only been neat one time since we moved in after I asked him to clean it before my shower.  It stayed that way for the most part up until his family came into town and then after they left he started junking it up again.  At least I can shut the door on that one and not look.  My thing is just realize that you aren't the only one who has to use these common areas and that it bothers me.  We are supposed to make cookies tomorrow and I refuse to do a thing in that kitchen until it's cleaned up.  It's just not functional for me to work in such a sloppy space.  I would rather him do it but I will do it myself if it's all still sitting there on Saturday.  It will make him feel bad if I do it-and it should. 

That is the only thing that pisses me off about him and I love him to death so I can totally accept it but sometimes I just need to vent.  Being in a bigger house definitely makes my irritation over it more manageable that's for sure.  But, he claimed that once he had a functional space to live in he would not be as messy but apparently that is not the case.

I have some wedding pics that I will crop and post at some point so that it won't show my face and I can still be anonymous.