Dear Diary,
As I slowly creep upwards on the scale into what I hope is just a day trip to the 230's to pick up a little motivation, I have to say that I'm almost convinced these pills are screwing me. I say almost because I've been f***ing myself lately. Huh? You're an a**hole. Nobodies talking about that Mr. Harry Palms. Hows your blindness going? No one baits a hook better than you. Some would call you Master Baiter. Now shut the f*** up. I'm talking about my poor decisions as of late. I feel like I should be asking myself what f***ed me over daily. Pastries have done me in. Yesterday it was cherry cheese danish from Panera Bread. Two. My will power continues to ebb at the moments I need it most. I hoped, but didn't expect last night's workout would help. I knocked out 200 sit ups, 250 push ups and did some planks while watching football. I hit the block for a quick jog but quit even quicker when I realized I wasn't prepared for the cold. Though I quit the jog I'm not ready to quit doing what I know is right regardless of my meds. I've faced setbacks before. I'll get over it. But first I've got to get under 230.
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