"...and when I was wrong, promptly admitted it."

It's been another week...I'm still watching what I eat (not just gazing as I graze) and I've begun to take on more water ballast. Lemme tell ya, Brothers and Sisters...just cramming in that extra 96oz of water makes for about a thousand extra steps per day, back and forth to the back'ouza. I'm seriously considering giving up asking God to "...grant me the serenity," and BUYING Serenities, instead. Hooo-EE! Anyway, here are the facts:

12 January:              19 January:

height: 5'10"            5'10"  

weight: 231.5#        228# (-3.5#) (-7.50#, total; 3.24%)

body fat: 31.5%      32%   +.5%

water: 51%               51%

waist: 46.5"             46.5"

chest: 47.5"             47"     (.5")

biceps: 14.5             14"     (.5")

Lost some weight, lost half an inch around the man-boobies (instead of Mae West, I'd rather look like Goldie Hawn, personally...) and some bicep circumference. BUT...the weight is making me happy, because that means that it's WORKING. Slips notwithstanding.

Yes, I said 'slips.' Sad to say, I've had a couple. Nights where I can't sleep, or something stresses me out so that I'm awake past that golden parenthesis of chemically-induced somnolence have always been a problem. Last night, it was my hand. Had surgery in October, and I'm POSITIVE that my surgeon did his best. Unfortunately, HE was only doing what he was able to do, given that the emergency room physician stepped all OVER his wanker when he treated me. He should have referred me to a specialist that night, instead of my having to have found out ten days later, after scar tissue had all but precluded a satisfactory surgical result. 

That being said, I snapped at the little lady last night, and ground my incisors in the bed for about an hour, until I decided to eat the last of the strawberries, and about a quarter of a cantaloupe before retiring to the couch. Rascal came to comfort me, and even THAT had no effect; no solace was to be found. Somewhere in there, the Ropinerole and the Trazadone bushwhacked me, and I slid into the fringes of rest, until that water issue came up again. So, I went BACK to bed, with my darling angel, and slept the rest of the night. But I had grazed. Good stuff, mind you...fruit is good...but at an inappropriate time, as an inappropriate response to an uncontrollable situation.

IAW the Tenth Step, when I got up this morning, I apologized to Dawn, but still feel like crap. a) because I snapped at her and Dyllan over something as completely STOOPIT as a disarticulated index finger, and b) because I let it get so far inside my head. Again...sorry, guys. I love you. 

Also, this week, I had Dawn work me up a smart, gradual weight-loss dietary plan. She is very fond of the American Diabetes Association diet, and calculated my needs to around 1900 calories. That all depends on timing, though, and lotsa diligence on my  part. I knew this weren't gonna be easy...my head just can't embrace it all, is all. Maybe the points system... 

Now, for the REALLY hard part: getting my silly butt in front of the boobless tube. Eating well isn't going to do it, completely. Shoot, that ONE TIME we walked around the big box-store was a BLAST. Back when I was a substitute teacher, Dawn and I would walk, up behind Orchard Family Health Care, regularly. It was fun. We'd walk, rest, have a snack... And, I can walk FOREVER, behind my pretty little wifey. The view is GREAT, lemme tell YOU. I should look up Richard Simmons' "Sweatin' to the Oldies," too, since he and I have so much in common: no taste in clothes, bad hair and a taste for that type of music. 

All joking aside, I have to look back at that Tenth Step again. I was wrong; I apologized to Dawn, I need to tell Dyllan, too. But...I have to forgive ME. I made a stupid choice. But, I made some serious SMART choices this week, too. I didn't graze the holiday buffet at work...FREE LUNCH, and yours truly didn't eat the cake, the cold cuts, the soda water...I held fast! I didn't hit the leftovers in the icebox ALL WEEK, until last night...and, I left the meat ALONE. (Momma's a little taken aback by it. I guess she hadn't noticed that I wasn't eating meat, for the last three weeks.)

I did good. I lost weight, lost an inch, and am taking positive, noticeable steps toward living longer, happier, healthier. Par example... Last night I made another seitan recipe. Rolled it into a sausage shape, boiled and simmered it, as per usual, and sliced it into a nice garden sauce I had made and let it simmer some more. Turned out pretty nice. Dawn was excited, because she had some left over to bring to lunch. I was excited because (until around midnight) I was actually FULL and satisfied, with what can be considered a normal portion.

*sigh*

Father God...Abba...Daddy...thank you for the serenity, courage and wisdom. I know that I'm still addicted to food. I always will be. I still have to walk the tracks. But, balancing on that rail, ready to dodge the next highballer, I know You've got my hand. I know You're watching over me, gently pointing out the good and the bad, allowing me the freewill, and rooting for my success as a man, a husband and a father. Thanks for all the plants and spices; thanks for the inspiration to cook them, and Daddy? Thanks for all the fish*