I'm totally at a...

...standstill.

The diet isn't going well. And I wish I had a reason for it. My first concept was...weather.
Yeah, weather.

We all want spring. We all want it to come-for real. Not just throw us a bone for one or two days with warmth and sun-but come, unpack the bags, and fucking stay put.
And believe it or not-weather helps.

1. When it's warm and sunny you want to do more. So you actually do. You move. As for me, I don't belong to any indoor gym. I don't like them, for one...and for another-I probably wouldn't go as often as I need to, to justify the cost. Know thyself. So, I need nicer weather to want to actually do the things.
2. When you are indoors more...you get bored. And what follows boredom? Eating. Unnecessary eating. Snacking and then feeling bad about snacking. And then feeling bad because you feel bad. It's all so 80's cocaine commercial. Yeah, I said it.
3. Nice weather brings a lack of clothing. Shorts, tanks, etc...And typically when people dress-they look in the mirror. And what have I told you people about mirrors? Avoid, right? Well...sometimes you can't, sadly. And when you see your blobby arms and jabba-gut and cottage cheese, dimpled legs, and double chin (that you can't hide behind a turtleneck like you do in winter)...it's a motivator. When you can hide body parts under winter clothing...it's much easier to have a positive self image. Warmer months-hide nothing.

But even the cruel bitch, mother nature cannot take the blame for poor food choices. You know, when you have a nice lunch with your husband at a local Chili's. And you see all of the guiltless grill choices and you know, you chose Chili's for that reason alone-the abundance of the things that are better for you. Smart choices, so to speak. And, you look it over and see the chili lime chicken for like 280 calories, or a nice salad. And you fucker that whole plan up by ordering a buffalo chicken sandwich with extra ranch dressing and a side of French fries. You know...that shit is NOT Mother Nature's fault. It just isn't. Fatty fat fat...that is ALL you.

That said, I can't figure it out-but I just keep sabotaging myself.

I'm like a fat version of Inspector Gadget. Go go Gadget liposuction!

And the thing is...I know that I have time lose this weight. It's not about vanity anymore. It's about my existence. It's life and death. Or life and needles and glucose meters, and test strips and sugar free baked goods.
Have you tasted sugar free cookies anything? It tastes like gross. I don't have a more eloquently description...it just tastes like fucking gross.

I admit, I am frustrated.

But that buffalo chicken sandwich was so goddamned good. I seriously did not take a breath while eating. It's called vacuuming...and it's a real thing. Or maybe not. Wait, it is...and I know this because...I did it. Today. At lunch.

I didn't eat the fries, though. Go me. Ugh.

I guess that I need more than others for Mother Nature to take her damn meds and get right. Sunshine and warm temps. Because even if I sometimes make a bad choice, I will have to put on a sundress at some point...and I don't have regular spanx. I have lycra and super industrial shape wear. Putting these things on are similar to stuffing a sausage.

The casing...VS my lumpy fat, a battle royale in the octagon. My fat usually wins by submission hold.  It's not pretty. I could totally see Amy Schumer doing a bit in one of her movies similar to it-I
I could be rich. Large...but rich.

If it wasn't NSFW, I would totally record myself putting them on just for the comedy. No shame in my game. It's hee-larious.

And if I have to put on the damn dress and squeeze into that shapewear...it's another motivator. Cause fuck shapewear. I like breathing. It's fun.

So, the conclusion is this.
1. Weather needs to change, and change permanently...not just a few days at a time-teasing us like some little tart from that book by Nabakov.
2. I have to figure out a way to make better choices. And this is just strictly will power, which I have none of. Ugh.
3. Look in mirrors more.
4. Put on my Spanx more.
5. Watch a butcher actually make sausage.
6. Watch YouTube videos on insulin injection.

And that should totally do it.

Hmmm...I totally didn't intend to make this entire post about my loathing of lycra, but here we are.

Yep.

Wishful eating.

XOXO,
Connor McGregor-UFC badass.