OMG. That's how I feel this morning. Behind the 8 ball.
I have laundry to do. And the bathrooms need to be cleaned. I have to clean out my closet today.
3/4 of it no longer fits. I'm not exaggerating. And even though I have faithfully been going to the gym 3 to 4 times (more before I went back to work), logging my food onto livestrong and drinking 12 to 15 glasses of water a day, I have gained 2 more pounds and my clothes still do.not.fit. You have no idea how upsetting this is to me. Seriously. I feel like a monumental failure in this department.
And at this point, I might as well sit around eating McDonald's (haven't had it since the end of June) and potato chips and enjoying my life rather than torturing myself by walking into the grocery store where I scream "DANGER! DANGER!" in my head for the 45 minutes that grocery shopping now takes (I used to be able to do a 25 minute super market sweep) while picking out produce and greek yogurt and lean meats.
I don't feel better about myself. I feel worse. Which I thought really wasn't possible. Last night I ate 3 pieces of veggie pizza in a state of rebellion and then felt guilty.
The gym is still not fun. Not fun at all. I dread changing into gym clothes. I feel stupid in them. I have to talk myself into it the whole drive there, and then I pray that no one watches me while I am in there. I can't even write blog posts in my head while I am there anymore. Its that depressing.
And then there is the whole "priorities" thing and adding one more thing to my plate now that we are back to work and I know exactly how spending an hour and half in the car everyday feels like... Like, what is a "priority"? Its been after five by the time we've all gotten home, and then dinner and the kids have showers and soon homework will be added to the mix. I have chores to do during the week, like laundry. Chris has choir practice and his own gym time. I need time to work on shop things (because I love doing that). And then there's the fact that I have a 5:30am wake up call now, so at least one night a week I have been going to bed before 9pm. I need sleep. Badly.
So, for the past two weeks of being at work, the gym has not been a priority (don't get me wrong, I have still been going) and the forcing makes me hate it even more because then I feel that it is taking time away from something that I would much rather be doing.
Like scrubbing my toilets. Because that sounds more enjoyable than the dang gym.
And I really just want to cry about it, but I think that might push Chris over the edge.
I didn't mean for this to become some kind of crazy rant. We have no coffee in the house this morning (because I have to go grocery shopping and I hate going there now too) and I am blaming this post on the lack of caffeine.