On Weight, and Wait, and....

So. I've lost 6 pounds. Meh. I wish that attempting to lose weight wasn't so time consuming. I'm sure most of that is coming off the easterly trip--we ate so much salt, so much crap--it balloons you and then when you quit it deflates. Plus I finished my period (Welcome, TMI seekers!) and that always makes me lose like, 4 pounds. So I've actually lost 2. Ish.

Idk. Like, you'd think that if you could drop like, 10 pounds right off it would be good motivation to stick with it. Instead, you lose a pound here, a pound there, feel like total ass, tired, angry about having to drink so much water, your ass hurts from working out, you want to sit down and eat ice cream (or whatever) but you get to have--whee!--a banana or something. I know that losing too much weight too fast will pretty much guarantee you'll gain it back, but really? Really.

I'm not trying to deprive myself, I'm eating when I'm hungry and all that, I'm just watching portions and what goes inside my mouth. And getting exercise. I don't love it.

On more exciting news, I totally kicked T's ass while working out last night. That made me feel a little better about progress--being that we were on an even out-of-shape keel a week ago. It's something.

I need to go for a run, now. I hate it, hate it, hate it. HATE IT. But it works, so, well, there you go.

I'm over it. I looked at the wedding pictures again and it's just....shameful. Shameful, how I couldn't find it inside myself to try and look decent for one goddamn day. I'm so embarrassed that for the rest of my life I get to look at the pictures from one of the best days, most momentous days of my life and see me, as a whale. Awesome.

I suppose that's motivation. Seeing what I really look like, what a walking disaster I am, stop deluding myself into thinking I look like anything close to decent.