I have no problem growing old. I refuse to grow-up.
I done did it, y'all. I got my scale out this morning. I can't say that I'm surprised, but I can say that I was hoping to be pleasantly surprised. Two hundred and freaking forty six pounds. It was a bit of a gut punch. I'm not happy. I know that I have lost weight since our move. I can see it in the mirror. I can tell by the way my clothes fit. But, as it stands this morning I have an official number. 246 Gross. Have I been heavier? Yes. Earlier this year. Have I (as an adult) been lighter? Yes... also earlier this year. Was I heavier when I got my ass in gear a few months ago? Yes. Can I do better? Also, yes. Am I going to be better? HELL YES!!! It's easy to pick a start date that is "later." You screw up on your new diet on Wednesday and decide to start over on Monday, or the first of the month, or the first of the year. Well, guess what? The first of the year is tomorrow. I'm not giving myself "one last night...
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