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So, since I began my freak out diet and exercise regime to get my muffin top body beach ready, I’ve resisted weighing myself.
Until yesterday morning.
I stepped on the scale with baited breath . . . the anticipation of seeing a new number appear on the digital readout. And, the new number was only 3 frigging pounds less. Grrrrrrrrrr! What more can I be doing? I’ve been exercising every day and really really watching what I eat.
I’ll admit, my clothes do feel a little looser, but I’m still a heifer on the scale.
Then I realised that I am getting that slightly bloated feeling, I’m craving chocolate and wine, feeling a little cranky (did you read my last post) and my skin is breaking out. Could it be my monthly visitor is going to make an appearance soon? I’m doomed, people, doomed. I guess I’ll be packing the black-suck-it-all-in-one-piece instead of the itsy-bitsy-teeny-weeny-polka-dot-bikini!
Last night, defeated, I pigged out on a couple of beers, some cheese and crackers and a handful of Maltesers. Today, I can hear the Penguins calling my name, “Karen, p-pick up a Penguin.”
Did I mention my local grocery store has started carrying British goods?
Vic said:
Exercise has built muscle and toned so as muscle weighs too, the fat you’ve lost is equalled out by the muscle gained. Visitor gone and you’ll be pounds down again.
mumof4 said:
Lucky you re the British stuff! Our supermarket in CT started to do that and we took it so for granted. There’s not soooo much I miss any more though, you?