… and not in a good way! I have decided to not let the stress of my ex-husband get to me in the form of chocolate, milkshakes and high-fat but super delicious gastronomic delights and go back to my full-proof ‘home delivered’ diet to show the world that I am ‘free’ from all the stress and ready to move on.
As, like all of us girls who climb on the diet wagon, I jumped on the scales as part of my morning ritual this morning (first I must empty bladder and squeeze out any poop that may interfere with a ‘good’ reading of the scales, then strip off to my bare naked skin to get the most consistent reading), I saw the scales go from a _1.5kg (I am not telling you want the first number is!) to a _0.8kg. At first, I saw the fat numbers of the zero and eight and felt disappointed, but then realised that I had actually lost 0.7kgs. But what’s up with that initial reaction?
Do a zero or eight define the voluptuous curves of our psychosis and re-interate to our heads that we are fat? Because they definitely aren’t as skinny as a ‘1!’ Can you imagine the ‘1’ telling the ‘0’ that it’s better than him because he is skinnier making the ‘0’ lose all self confidence because he’s round with no waist, when in fact, he is the better figure to have in the weight loss fight… I’m sure the ‘0’ just wants to snap the stick figure ‘1’ in half and throw it over it’s shoulder to show that the ‘1’ is beaten… And with his robust figure, he could easily do it.
So, as my weight goes down from _0, to _9, _8, _7, etc and the numbers slowly lose their roundness back to _1 again, I’m looking forward to the ‘0’ kicking ass again and telling the ‘1’ where to go!