Okay, it's late, but it's still Saturday. Actually, it's not late in the day, it's just later than I usually post journal entries. Though I've never posted one from home before, so there isn't really a usual time for weekend postings. Or are weekend postings allowed to be different?
Wow, was that ramble-y.
Had a nice day today, though. I slept in late (okay, I only slept until about 8, but it felt good to wake up on my own for once) and we lounged around the house all morning. Ahhh....
Wanna hear something weird? On the weekends, I very frequently don't eat anything until well after noon. Just don't feel hungry. Or if I do feel hungry, it just doesn't seem important. But at work, I feel like I'm going to die if I don't eat my breakfast by 9, and then I'm hungry again at 11. But on weekends, I seem to eat more junkfood, so it's harder, despite the skipped meal, to make my points turn out even. I wonder if that's something that will get easier to control the longer I stay in the Weight Watcher's program, or if it's just the way things are. Matt says he thinks the increased desire to eat during the week is from boredom. I think he's probably at least partially right - if I'm working on a really engrossing project, I tend to skip meals at work, too.
Maybe I just need more work to do. (Nah, don't pass that on to my boss; I'd have to stop updating my journal so regularly, and we wouldn't want that, would we?)
We went to Sam's Club today, ostensibly to pick up shampoo and kleenex. (I swear, it's amazing how fast two people can go through kleenex.) But of course, it's Sam's Club so we also picked up some impulse items. Matt got a big bag of Craisins - if you haven't seen them before, these are sugar-soaked, dried cranberries. They're pretty good. Matt generally eats whole bags at a time. I'm trying to convince him to save a handful this time; there's a recipe on the back of the bag that I want to try. And he got himself a pack of 18 Cadbury Creme Eggs. (I teased him that he should try to make them last all the way to Easter. I'll be surprised if they last to the end of the week. Sugar doesn't last long around here.) I got myself some teriyaki-flavored beef jerky and a three-pound bag of Jelly Bellies Sours (my favorites - no other jelly bean or even Jelly Bellies would have tempted me). "Only 4 calories per bean!" the bag bragged. Hah. I was good. I was! I waited until we got home and had dinner, and then I carefully figured out exactly how many beans I could have to get up to the minimum number of points for today. Fifty-five beans would have done it for me. So I carefully counted out fifty-five beans (eleven of each color - you have to be either anal or obsessive-compulsive to really appreciate the Weight Watcher's plan) into a little baggie so I could munch while reading my book.
Boy, did that look like a pathetic amount of candy. But I took it over to the couch, and sat down with my book, and several pages later I realized the baggie was empty. Yup. Pathetic. Okay, well, Weight Watcher's allows a range of points, and I would just have another serving. This time, I'd admit that I'm a Jelly Belly pig, and figure out the maximum amount of beans I could have today. Counted those out obsessively. They still looked pretty pathetic. I'm wishing I hadn't bought the jelly beans and had made meringue kisses instead. They're less filling than jelly beans, but at least they look like they have some volume! But I hadn't eaten all the counted-out beans before I started feeling full. So I left the fifteen or so remaining beans. It's only 7:30, and I'm sure I'll want more before I go to bed, and I really don't want to blow it today.
So I sat down with my book and... Oh, wait. You don't know this. Okay, you're about to read about a moderately gross eating habit of mine. If you think this might bother you, skip to the next paragraph right now. I eat bouillon. I don't mean broth - I mean the little granules that you make broth with. I eat it right out of the jar. Yeah, it's essentially chicken (or beef) flavored salt, and I'm sure it isn't helping my blood pressure any. But I don't use any salt the rest of the time, and the last time I went to the doctor, my blood pressure was within normal limits, so don't start preaching to me. It's a less destructive habit than smoking. So I sat down with my book and the jar of bouillon.
(Now that we've rejoined with the squeamish people... Oh, go on and confess - you were too curious to skip it, and you read it anyway, and now you're wishing you hadn't, right?) Anyway, I sat down to read and munch, and Matt comes up and asks me if I'm going to update my journal today. Well, I'd logged in earlier today to do just that but I'd gotten caught up in working on my photo album. (It's not complete. You'll just have to wait.) So here we go. One bona-fide journal entry.
Okay, it isn't very exciting, but you know what? My weekend life just isn't exciting. I kindof like it that way. I like to just lounge around and not be responsible for anything sometimes. Deal with it. ::grin::
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