To be perfectly honest, the scale said 277 on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday this week, and then jumped to 282 this morning, but Aunt Flo arrived at the same time, so I’m going with the 277. Sue me. 😉

Why yes, that is a picture of a man being lifted by a bunch of balloons. Did you know that you can pay to do this? Seriously. They have a website and everything. Clusterballoon.org. Go see them!

That said, I’m a week early, I’m annoyed about it, but at the same time, it’s par for the course these days. Food-wise, I’ve not been making all the SMARTEST choices, but I’ve been smart about my BAD choices, if that makes sense. Last night, we got home really late, so I stopped at the mall to pick up some Subway for dinner. However, instead of getting a footlong sub like I normally would, I got a six inch and piled on the veggies. (I do love my footlong subs… part of the reason I made it up to 310 at my heaviest).

So as of today, I have three weeks and two days until Rob arrives. The goal was to hit 275 by my birthday, and I’m hoping to leave it in the dust! Here’s the plan:

Week ONE:
100 steps on the stair master at least once a day
3 flights of stairs at work at least once a day (that’s from the 4th floor, which is where my boss is, to the 7th floor where I am)
50 crunches with the ab-rocker every day
1 mile walked every day.

I will revisit and re-evaluate after week one to see how much progress I’ve made. This starts tomorrow, Saturday morning 🙂 Week one will be entirely about exercise, and I don’t plan on changing my eating habits just yet.

Yesterday I forgot I was wearing buttoned pants, and when I went to the bathroom at one point, I just slid them off. Um….. yay, my pants just slide off, but at the same time, boo – my pants just slid off. That said, I need new pants. I can not yet afford new pants. This is a dilemma LOL Fortunately, I should be able to get pants in a couple of weeks! PANTS. Have I used the word “pants” enough yet? No? PANTSPANTSPANTS. Pants. I’ve always liked that word. Moreso after I found out that it was my ex-boyfriend’s favorite swear word (he’s British… I can’t explain it). Right, this is getting silly, so I’ll go now.

PANTS.

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