And on the 7th day, there was sunlight! Yay! Sunlight is slipping in various east and south facing windows. Kentuckians statewide are, I imagine, creeping out of doors and turning their pasty, astonished faces toward the sky, squinting in disbelief at the light. I know I did.
"Durn' sun," doubtless some of them mumble today, on the way to work in Ford trucks. "Whur's m' durn' sunglasses?"
On the calorie front I've been down graded to a projected loss of only two pounds per week. I knew four pounds was too much to hope for.
I almost went over my calorie limit yesterday; damn that bacon! In a desperate attempt to eat more bacon, I abandoned the bread and the mayonnaise and instead wrapped bacon and tomato in lettuce leaves, creating my very own BLT lettuce wrap.
Then I said, screw the lettuce and just ate bacon, standing over the counter with greasy fingers in a pork induced pleasure haze.
That put me forty calories over my limit, until I realized that I'd vacuumed that day and vacuuming for fifteen minutes burns fifty six calories, so now I'm actually sixteen calories in the green!
How's that for calorie counting on steroids? Oh yes. I know the calorie count of nearly every food item in this house by now. Eight pieces of baby carrots? 28. Sara Lee Soft and Smooth bread slice? 80. Coffee, eight and a half ounces? 2.
I've also been working out five days of the last seven. Mainly because working out burns almost four hundred calories, which means I can eat that much more and still be under my calorie limit. Consequently, my thighs are vastly improving. That alone is encouraging.
Thank goodness I don't have to do this sort of thing indefinitely. I can sustain this for a good couple of months, but no longer. Fortunately, once I've lost the weight, I can eat five hundred more calories and still maintain that size. Theoretically.
My husband thinks it's adorable that I'm trying to lose weight. When I told him I had lost a pound, he called me "a little calorie counting cutie." Also he knows, like any good husband, when to lie.
"Have you been losing weight?" he asked me last night, putting his hand on my waist.
"You can't tell yet!" I protested in disbelief. "That's impossible."
"There's definitely a difference," he said, with a twinkle in his eye.
