When we last left off in the Great Diet Saga of 2011, our heroine was fully on-board with the diet and exercise changes necessary to get rid of the nefarious weight she had somehow gained during her first year of cohabitation.
Then she stopped talking in the third person because it was really annoying.
I was on the right track, switching up a lot of my meal and snacking choices and exercising when I could. I was actually seeing some decent results as well- Since my last diet post, I’m down over five pounds.
And Easter happened.
It was the first family gathering since I’d started the big d-word, and the first time when I had little control over what the menu for the day way. Instead, I could focus on portion control and not go apeshit over the abundance of awesome food and chocolatey goodness.
Can we talk about that for a minute? The chocolate?! Because for the love of all that’s holy, I MISS IT. It’s quickly revealed itself to be my one true weakness, and if I don’t enjoy a little of it a day, I become a stabby hellbeast.
Anyway, wah, boring, blah, done with that.
However, Easter presented a new set of challenges in the form of my lovely, sweet, pastel-filled Easter basket. Not only mine, but Army Boy’s too! (Not to worry, I wasn’t tempted by anything that was in Wesley’s treat stash.)
“No big deal,” I thought. “I can handle this. I’ll just have to make my basket last longer than it typically has in the past.” I stuck to my original plan, with the addition of a piece or two of Easter candy each day. I had to get it out of the house, after all.
And THEN, I sprained my knee.
At least, that’s what we’re going with at this point, a few days after the fact when I’m now able to put some weight on it and returned to normal NSAIDS (naproxen) instead of the good shit I was taking immediately after it happened.
I am the queen of “traumatic injury while doing nothing.”
Rather than a fabulous story to tell you about how I was horseback riding through the woods on a summer-like day, and was thrown dramatically off the horse and into a patch of thorny bushes that just happened to be inhabited by an angry hobo….
…I was in the kitchen. Getting my dog some water. And I turned, and suddenly my knee buckled and I couldn’t put weight on it. AWESOME.
Somehow, my timing for “traumatic injury while doing nothing” was awesome, and I was going into a four day weekend during which Puppers was scheduled to get his… ahem…manhood removed. We spent a great deal of time taking it easy together, and though he seemed confused as to why he inexplicably wanted to watch the Royal Wedding* all the time, I wasn’t about to argue with him. Whatever makes you feel better, Wesley.
At this point, I’m willing to go with “sprain” without too much shame, but SHIT. That was NOT fun. And all that I could think about at the time was that my diet was going down the tubes because I would be unable to exercise and I had eaten EASTER CANDY that week. GAH! (Catholic guilt? Or just neurotic? You be the judge.)
It’s safe to say that last week, I tumbled off the diet wagon. My scale attested to the fact, though less significantly than I would have thought. That, at least, was a relief. With another few weeks of good behavior, I should be right back on track.
*GAH! PERFECT! AMAZING! *Swoon!*