now it's Turkish delight on a moonlit night

[verbicide]

Tomorrow is going to be a busy day. So, I should go to bed now. And I will.

Sarah bullied me into actually doing my French homework (instead of complaining about it). And I think I'm ready to tuck into bed with The Subtle Knife. It's getting interesting again.

Activités pour demain:

- Wake up and post an update on nikkinewsnet
- Work (I turned in my case study draft, whee!)
- French class from 5-630 PM
- Dinner with Judy at 6:45 PM
- Come home and try to fall asleep, even though hanging out with Judy makes me very, very hyper

Really, it's a busy week ahead. And since the triathlon is actually weekend after next, I need to bust some serious ass these next two weeks. Going to bed early is going to be important. So I should do that NOW.

Going off the diet (AGAIN *grrr*) has had repercussions. 4lbs up. It was all that pie. Mowr. I would give an internal organ to get back the traction I had last year. You'd think all the training I've done this year would have helped. But see above re: pie. No more pie. EVER. Why is it so freaking hard? I know this is just party bloat, and it'll be gone by next week. But I feel like every week just yo-yos between the same 5lbs. And it just doesn't motivate the way real weight loss does. I know I need to point things out. I know I need to buy some reasonable groceries.

And I mean to, but either things are frantically busy or I'm frantically relaxing from all the franticness. It's stupid and it's lame, but there you have it. I have to sit here and admit, "Okay, I'm climbing back on the wagon." Because, really. What alternative is there? I'd like to still be able to climb a flight of stairs at 40.

I really need to find time to go to the goddamn grocery store. Maybe tomorow after dinner with Judy.

Comments

[(Anonymous)]

You realize that since you're building muscle, you're probably not going to lose pounds like you'd otherwise expect, right? Muscle weighs more than fat. And you keep saying how you have more muscle.

But yeah, pie bad.

[brabble.livejournal.com]

Mrgh forgot to sign in first.

[verbicide.livejournal.com]

Heh. I was wondering if that was you. It sounded like you :)

I know. But I don't think I'm losing fat, either. (I did lose 2lbs of the pie-induced party bloat already, though! *perky*) I keep cycling through the same motherfucking 4-5lbs. It's making me insane.

I would also just like to slice off my entire stomach. But that's probably not such a good idea. Mrh.

[mattguy.livejournal.com]

2 days

[verbicide.livejournal.com]

I know!!! *giddy shriek* Sur-fucking-real.

Now Matt, I'm counting on your gentle encouragement to get drunker than I've ever gotten drunk. Drunker than that night in Switzerland where I woke up still completely shitfaced the next morning when my friends came by and said, "Monica and Diane went to climb the Gornergrat. We figured we'd come over and be drunk with you!"

Don't let me wuss out after half a thing of Mike's neither.

[mattguy.livejournal.com]

I mean...telling me to encourage someone to be drunker than they've ever been...you can't take that kind of request back. And I'm known to be quite charming and forceful

[verbicide.livejournal.com]

I knew you'd step up to the plate!

As I'm known to be quite giddy and compliant, this will be atrociously perfect.

Fair warning, though. As much as I rattle on incessantly sober, that little voice that tells me to stfu already goes completely away when I'm drunk.

Bring earplugs. Also, no recording devices.