The weekend started up so well, with only a couple of constructive criticizing remarks by my boss before I actually started it (maybe I should have not said anything in an earlier post about this kind of character building). I held firm on my choices at the festival we attended on Friday and I was pretty much right on up until dinner on Saturday. We had Jacob and Gracie on Saturday night and it seems their favorite place for dinner when staying with us is Cracker Barrel. I felt good about ordering a grilled chicken salad but then sucuumbed to the biscuits. At this point, I don't know if I had 1 1/2 or 2. Neither of the kids finished their meal and I did something I've never done before, I ate off both of their plates ... only a couple of bites, but with dumplings and mac n cheese, it wasn't the thing to do. We took the kids to play miniature golf and we had a fun evening and I guess it was a little bit of exercise bending over and picking up my golf ball for 18 holes.
But this morning, I kept remembering those biscuits and feeling like I was completely out of control. It was haunting me. My indiscretions were there in the back of my mind wondering what triggered this. I had a great weekend. I'm so blessed to be able to live the life I'm living. To be able to travel and have fun-filled weekends that don't need to be centered around food. After Stephanie and Jim picked up the kids, Gary left for a meeting and I had all these plans to clean house and get caught up on all the masses of paper we always seem to be drowining in. But I couldn't be motivated in doing anything. I held off the gremlins suggesting that a snack would get me moving but I was still justs sitting doing nothing but watching "American Pickers" that was on TV. Why was it so hard just to turn off the "idiot box" and clean the bathroom. I was given some alone time that I could get so much done and what was I doing ... wasting it. I felt like one of those characters from an old TV show, sitting on the couch, watching TV, downing bons bons. Well, it wasn't bon bons, as I became weaker from earlier in the day and got into some cashews and a fudgcicle. I really was trying but not hard enough.
When Gary came home, we went to dinner and again had no power over the bread and olive oil. I did bring home half of my dinner, but it was because I had spoiled my appetite with too much bread.
I know tomorrow will be a diaster for my weigh-in but I got to just get over it, accept that it'll put me a little behind and move on. They say it's good to bear your soul and admit it when you've done something wrong. I've got to convince myself that one bad day doesn't mean I'm done. It's not a stopping point to get off but just a connecting place to refuel and continue. Right now that seems to be easier said than done but I'll sleep on it tonight and ready to get back into the groove tomorrow.