Just Call Me Duncan

I don’t mean this fictional Scottish stud …  Duncan MacLeod

 

 

 

 

 

 

Duncan Keith … or this very real hockey stud.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I mean this complete anti-stud …  Duncan yoyo

 

 

 

 

 

Yep. I’m a yo-yo.

I’ve allowed life circumstances – houseguests, finances, family, pet health, job stresses and relationship issues – to knock me off my game. As a result, Project 40 has become Project 45. Sigh.

You’ve been there with me, though, right? We lose 10, we gain 15. We beat ourselves up about it and gain two more. A couple of weeks ago, my sister told me that my niece could use a little pep talk. She was down on herself about having regained seven of the pounds that she’d lost. I had to confess to my sister that I wasn’t the one to give a pep talk since I’d had small bag of Chips Ahoy and four Butterfinger cups for breakfast. (I truly wish that were an exaggeration. It’s not.) I have eaten anything and everything in sight for the past few weeks.

As I’ve told you before, I’m emotional, binge eater. I’m also a compulsive eater. I can’t stand for there to be a half-finished bag or carton of something. I feel genuinely compelled to finish it…and I have the waist to prove it. I’ve had a temporary roommate who is thin and can eat anything he likes. He also can eat just a few of something and stop. I can do neither as is evidenced by the empty chocolate Donnette bag (okay, bags) in my trash can.

LoseIt! (the tracking program I use) measures a week from Monday to Sunday. I’m not waiting until Monday to get back on track – I started this morning. Yesterday, I prepared my veggies for the week and threw out all of the Frankenfoods that my roomie has enjoyed. (Sorry, Kent! You’re going to have to keep that stuff in your car or something.)

A woman, I will never be Duncan MacLeod or Duncan Keith; however, I’m taking control again so that someday soon, I will be this Duncan…

wonderwoman yoyo

 

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