Boy-yo, was I ever trying to make excuses today. I fell asleep right after work again (probably because I stay up all night preparing for the art projects the next day. I never considered all of the preparation time required for a job like this when I took it. It is fun, but exhausting.). While I slept, Ernie went to Whaddaburger (sp?) to pick up some dinner. Now, keep in mind that I have never kept things on hand in our kitchen that are particularly easy to fix (other than fruit). Everything requires preparation. I do that intentionally. About three years ago I realized that everything we ate was basically crap and was causing us to die slowly (I jest...sort of). So I decided to make as much from scratch as I could to limit my family's intake of processed foods. But Ernie, who was trying to be a good husband and let me sleep (which I appreciate), doesn't cook. So he ran and got dinner, again trying to be helpful. And yes, I ate a cheeseburger. I think I kind of hate myself just a little for giving into temptation. I've done so well up until now (3 whole weeks, wow. Yep, I suck). The only thing in my favor is that I took off the top bun (not the bottom bun, because I didn't see how to eat it without making a mess. Because, you know, I don't own any forks or knives or anything. Again, I suck.) And you know what? It wasn't even good. I could have whipped up a smoothie in five minutes and it would have tasted better and been healthier than that stupid cheeseburger. See? I told you I suck!
So here I sat, tired, cranky, and pissed at myself for eating the damned cheeseburger. And I really, really didn't want to go to the gym. I made every excuse I could think of. I had to wake up early. I had a lot to do to get ready for tomorrow's art classes. I was still tired. I had to go to the store to get some supplies for a last-minute change another teacher asked me to make in my lesson plans. But then I thought about writing this post. I thought about how much angrier I would be if I ate the cheeseburger and skipped the gym. So I dragged my butt to the car, telling myself I would only do a half-assed workout and pat myself on the back. But once I got started, my dragging sleepiness vanished and I attacked that workout. I feel better now (though I am still kicking myself about whaddaburger) and I'm really glad I decided to go. I had to drag myself kicking and screaming, but I went. At least the day isn't a complete loss.
Today I ate:
8 ounce green smoothie
2 cups of coffee
Crudité plate
1/2 of a PB&J sandwich
Cheeseburger (sans top bun. Gotta put that awful little justification in there.)
Plain yogurt with raisins and honey
Exercise:
30 minutes (3 miles) on the treadmill
30 minutes (8 miles) on the stationary bike
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