Does anyone else find it odd that for decades, Porky Pig has gotten away with wearing nothing from the waist down but a pair of black pumps? Hell, he's not even wearing a shirt--just a jacket and a bow tie. That's one pervy porker.
Anyway, I'm feeling a bit porcine as I contemplate a 4:00 appointment with my doctor today. If were on the schedule he suggested for me, I would weigh at least five pounds less than I did when we met in February. Instead, I think it's likely that I will be up three or four.
I was down those five pounds a couple months ago. Interval training at the gym, tennis, lifting, all of these things helped me drop some weight without too much trouble.
Then came July: a debauched Las Vegas vacation that kicked off a couple weeks of celebratory dinners and good-bye lunches as I left my old job. Then the new job, with a great cafeteria and the anxiety that tends to make me snack. I was still working out, but not enough to make up for pigging out.
Sigh. Food is so much nicer than sweating.
Once again today, I'll be pressured to sign up for nutrition classes at the clinic. No thanks. I know exactly what I need to do to lose weight. I know what a carbohydrate is. I know that my servings of lean meat should be the size of a deck of cards. I also know that sometimes I just don't care.
And that's all, folks.