Learning from history
Thusly, I have prepared a small sample of what Scott optimistically calls my meal plan, or perhaps lack-of-planning would be more accurate in this particular illustration.
Sunday night dinner (Easter, as you recall, a traditional feast day):
French Toast, prepared a la waffler. Yum, yum. With peanut butter and margarine, and (real sugar) berry syrup and (non-sugared) maple-style syrup. Oh. And one fried egg. I ate five pieces.
Lunch, in case you were wondering, was with our friends over at Russell Street BBQ. God bless Sharon and Diane. And, let me state, that we do consider beef and pork barbeque to be an excellent celebratory meal. We did decline dessert. I must confess, though, to an intimate familiarity with the dessert menu offerings. My favorite? The fried pies, filled with chocolate ganache.
Monday morning reading: 192
Monday activity: Sincere repentence.
Monday night dinner: Homemade salsa & corn chips and minestrone soup. Corn chips, under most circumstances, send my readings sky high. I do my best to resist the evil ones (fried) and choose only the half-evil ones (baked). Couldn't find them on Monday.
Tuesday morning reading: 117
Perhaps I should visit Scott's nutritionist.
I'm back to OHSU tomorrow, for a visit to the pain psychologist and to the MRI lab. This should be interesting.
I'm not trying to fall off the wagon. I currently weigh 185 lbs, when I started the year at 170 or so. I'm very out-of-control with my eating, very worried and anxious. Time to reign in, reassess. Or, as Scarlett says, "Tomorra is another day."