Because I need this blog again. Dillypoo's inner child has reasserted herself and this blog is my best chance of controlling her.
Inner Child Dillypoo: I'm hungree. Feed me.
Grown Up Dillypoo: Have an apple.
Inner Child Dillypoo: Right after I finish my cookie.
Grown Up Dillypoo: OK. **sigh**
Dillypoo is over goal. Not by much, but enough that I had to buy a new pair of jeans in a bigger size. My size 6 closet is snug and my jeans are uncomfortable. It's time to reign in the crazy before things get too out of control.
Grown Up Dillypoo: JUST SAY NO...
To the 2.5 pound box of chocolates sent to my office by a thought
And the tin of homemade peanut brittle:
And pretty much anything from Trader Joe's:
The past few months have been stressful. After an amazing summer (more on that soon), Dillypoo's busy season at work clubbed me over the head hard. I worked more than 280 hours in October.
280+ hours. That averages to more than 70 per week. Per FIVE DAY week, not seven.
October was the month Dillypoo's Inner Child showed up. She was tired, cranky and demanding.
I went five weeks without exercising, because getting up at 5:00 a.m. to work out after going to bed at 1:00 a.m. just wasn't going to happen.
My food tracking was sporadic. I ate Caesar salad, cream soups and rich, catered food. I also polished off an entire chocolate frog.
When I went to buy those new jeans in a bigger size, I was pissed at myself for not saying no sooner. And now I'm channeling that anger into action. I must return to the things that keep me focused and on track.
Grown Up Dillypoo: JUST DO IT...