Thursday, September 15, 2005


So I started the South Beach Diet this week.  Yah...I know "but you don't need to lose weight!"  "you're a stick already!"  Whatever.  My BMI is over 30.  I get winded when I have to go up more than 3 steps.  I have underarm jiggle and I'm only 25.  I NEED to lose weight.

The other reason, and the BIG one, is that I have a history of diabetes in my family... not to mention various cancers.  I am trying to a) reduce my risk for future illness; b) get my outside appearance to help reflect the inside beauty there is in me; and c) I feel pudgy.  I don't like feeling pudgy.  I've been overweight all my life.  I have accepted the fact that I have curves (which I love) and that I will never be a size 0 (I'm big boned, and darn it, I like being able to haul my own heavy suitcase, reach the top shelf with out a stool, and not having to worry about being blown away by a stiff wind.)  All my life, I've loved myself for myself, extra curves and all.  But when I feel pudgy, I have trouble doing that.  And I realized the other day that the short term satisfaction I get from downing a WHOLE bag of potato chips isn't worth a future of always wishing I didn't have this little belly roll of mine.

So far, the diet goes well... the first day was easy, the second was not.  Third was easier.  I'm eating well, and have yet to be hungry (except when dinner has to wait til 8 PM, which is a BAD idea...).  I think I've dropped about 5 pounds already.  I'd know for sure if I had weighed myself before the first day... I waited til day 3 to do that.

I'm also trying to clean my house of clutter.  At least my clutter.  And I'm trying to convince the Boyfriend to work with me to clean the Boyfriend's house of his clutter, as it has taken over and I can't stand it any more.  Stacks upon stacks is deemed a proper filing system at both our houses, to the effect that when I or he needs to find something, it is nearly impossible.  And we both end up cleaning like mad before anyone can actually come over.  I'm on a mission, and is helping.  What's funny, is that I am the opposite of that at work.  All my data is meticulously kept in color coded notebooks with dividers, read papers are filed, I keep a computer file of all references, and I label/colorcode the bejeebers out of all experiments.  I think by the time I get home I'm so exhausted from it that I blow off cleaning/laundry/bills, etc. 

Here's to the babysteps to turn this life o'mine around.

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