I lasted 15 days

I lasted fifteen days of counting points until I crashed and burned tonight. I had 22 points(c) left when the girly calls me up at 5, causing me to leave work. I was really burned out and I knew that I wasn't going to get anymore work done so I left. We went to the Penny Farthing, a kick-ass English pub down the street from me and I had a beer (probably six points) and a penny burger (beef, cheese, bacon, condiments, and your typical burger veggies). I had the waitress substitute a side salad for fries.

But it didn't end there. I was good until I got a little stressed a few hours ago. I had some Healthy Choice fudge pops (1 point each), a twinkie, the rest of the champagne from New Years, some OJ, and about a quarter-tube of Pringles. So yeah, I slipped up and took it to the max.

And then my friend with a Guy-Fieri fetish sends me this link, which makes me drool for more fucking food:

This is what Dragon Ball Z would look like with a thyroid problem.

In counting points, I lost about 8 pounds, which is good, but god damn staying on target is hard. Tomorrow is a new day and I should start anew.

Oh, and the rest of that bottle of champagne... it crept up on me. So this was a semi-drunk rant.

Edit: in case you're wondering, I got my MSW application in on time. That paper was a bitch but for whatever reason, I didn't stress out enough to fall off the wagon.

Edit 2: This is for Brownie

I literally barfed in my mouth at 1:47. I wonder if this is a look at how fucker eats kitty.

Lacking motivation...

I'm super serial when saying that I'm lacking motivation to do anything.

Despite throwing down two Benjamins to go take a community college course, I have fallen behind and twice told myself that I want to quit. This is super lame. So I'm at my local sbux (5 point drink) and blogging before I get to work. I'll be here for about two more hours to grind down the caffeine high that I'm working on right now.

I really don't want to hit the gym but I'm going to today, come hell or high water.

I really want to sleep. After taking a three-hour nap last night (bed at 3, wake up at 7 - which was my own damn fault for watching The Office Season 3 commentary), I am feeling tired. Besides a strenuous home visit, I vegged out at work and got all excited/giddy when I got back from lunch to check out the breaking news about John McCain and this super-lame publicity stunt that he pulled today. Lunch was alright, costing about 18 points. That killed my day, but I'm okay with that. Still tracking, being honest about it, and working to get there.

When I got on the scale today, I used the one not at my house to determine that I was the weight that I am. At my parent's house last weekend, I weighed in at 316 on my brother's scale and added four pounds to come to the weight previously posted. I got on my scale, and sho 'nuff, I weighed 320. No gain or loss. So today, I'm going extra gay on my iPod: Fired Up! Volume One.

Will probably even that out with some Blink-182 in homage to that dude that got scorched and whose contribution to pop culture, clothes, and fashion I still have not grown to appreciate despite his personal tragedy.

I'm tracking my shit. I'm gyming it. I'm getting back on track.

In the sense of having a lot going on right now and needing to get shit did*, I can empathize with my clientele in that they have a lot of stuff going on and are having a hard time getting done what needs to get done when drawing up their case plans.

*(c) J-Lerm