HIT THE ROAD!
It's no secret that I'm messin' with a few pounds here.
That in itself is pissing me off.
I mean, I'm not as outraged as I was when I was messin' with 25 pounds, 50 pounds or 100 pounds.
But, I'm definitely not thrilled with gaining a few pounds.
Now I've got a new problem.
These pounds have decided to go where they want.
They've decided that they are in charge of where they will reside.
Seriously.....if these pounds are planning on being guests, you would think they would have some manners and make themselves useful or something.
Go to my boobs or maybe fill in somewhere not quite as obvious.
All of a sudden....even though the scale is not climbing any further (thankfully!), those miserable pounds have decided to make themselves well known.
They are putting themselves front and center.
They want to be the center of attention.
BAD GUEST BEHAVIOR. Ask Miss Manners or Dear Abby....
The past week or so, I can feel my visiting pounds lounging on my mid section.
And my belly.
Those pounds know me well enough to know that I'm not going to do sit ups or targetted exercise to make them go away.
They know that I won't work them too hard or over exert them.
They are taking advantage of my dislike of exercise!
I'll show those pounds a thing or two.
I won't take this sitting down.
No. No. No.
No, I'm not going to start a sit up regimen.
That's not my style.
I'm more of a let's try to figure this out with the least amount of pain kind of girl.
I'd rather exercise my brain than my abs.
I have examined by behavior and I realize that I have enabled those pounds to do this.
I am a pound enabler.
You see, when I reflect back on what may have caused this entire problem, I've come to realize that lately I've been grocery shopping and cooking and ordering food with the question of what can I get past my band?
In other words, I've not allowing my band to work for me.
I've been trying to see what I can get away with.
Now we know.
I can't get away with nothing.
Sooner or later, it will catch up with me.
Those pounds will make me stand up and take notice if I ignore them to too long.
First, they appeared on the scale.
Then, they wedged themselves in between me a pair of size 6p pants that fit me November.
When I didn't get the message.....they decided to pull out the big guns.
A muffin top and a pot belly.
Thankfully, I have ammunition that doesn't involve sweating or groaning or carving out any special time in my day---my Lapband!
I have to return to the banded lifestyle of eating regular food and stopping when my band tells me I have had enough.
I have to stop working so hard at trying to figure out what I can eat easily.
Good bye loaded mashed potatoes and coconut cream pie.
Hello what's on the menu?