Yesterday I didn't have the best day at work. Even though I know I was/am over-reacting about the situation, it still did not make me feel good. Essentially, without going into much detail, the situation got me thinking about my age. To those I work with, I'm young. I'm 25. That's young. To me. I'm not so young anymore.

Next August I will be turning 26. I will no longer be in my early-twenties. And, depending on who you talk to, I will no longer be in my mid-twenties. Next August, I will have four more years of my twenties. Then I'll be 30. Four years. That's it. Just four. That's nothing. It's not that I'm saying 30 is by any means "old" or that I will not longer be able to enjoy my "youth" - but the idea of being fat even a second longer in my twenties is haunting me.

My mom and I had a discussion while I was home last weekend about plastic surgery. Some how the subject came up, and at the end of it my mom confessed to me she supported the idea of me getting some work done once I reach my goal weight. The fact of the matter is I've always hated my boobs. My family has great genes, but in some areas ... not so much. One of these areas would be the muscles in our chest. They have absolutely NO definition, even after countless chest presses. So, my boobs have always been far from perky, and throughout my life I've always thought about having a lift. However, as more and more pounds come off, they are beginning to deflate, so, at this point, the idea of getting small implants may actually be something I would consider. My mom also recommended a tummy tuck. She had one after I was born and loved the results. When I mentioned this to my coworker, she suggested I also look into SmartLipo. She said I probably won't really need an actual tummy tuck, and that the SmartLipo procedure may get me the results I want at a much lower cost. So, bottom line? When I reach 125 pounds, maybe even 130, I will be having my boobs done and some procedure to flatten my stomach. I'll finally have the body I've always wanted!

But.

That won't happen if I don't STOP! Stop what?

I'm going to gain wait this week. After a few slippery days I decided to weigh in a bit early. I stepped on the scale yesterday at 155.4 and today at 155.0 - even with the .4 pound loss from yesterday to today, I'm still up 1.4 pounds from last Wednesday. There's NO way I will lose that much weight by tomorrow. I'm not even going to hope for it. At this point I'll be happy to weigh-in at 154.something - and happy is a very loose term. Why did I have slippery days? I don't know. Last Wednesday we had a holiday potluck at work. I didn't eat terrible, but I did have a few things I shouldn't have. So I took all of my weekly points and put them in for Wednesday, just to be safe, and decided to carry on with the rest of the week with no more than my daily allotment. That didn't work. Thursday was fine, even Friday was okay. But Saturday came and Saturday blew everything up out of the water. Saturday was enough. I went to a party. Enough said.

I can't keep doing this. I can't keep rationalizing these mistakes with my food intake. I can't keep justifying the reasons why I'm not working out anymore. I can't keep making excuses. I just can't! I am SO sick of feeling this way. And what's worse, I'm SO sick of being SO sick of feeling this way! There's just no reason for it at this point. At this point, I'm just being ridiculous.

There is a direct correlation between how often I blog and how well I'm doing with the program. No posts this week = crappy, CRAPPY weight [gain] loss. Tomorrow starts a new week. And this week will be a good week. Pardon my French, but FUCK Christmas. FUCK the fact that I'm going to Michigan this weekend. FUCK it! NONE of that matters damn it!


What I want, what I need, the goals I've set for ME! ... I am the only one who controls what I eat or don't eat. I am the only one who can decide whether or not I go to the gym, or get on the treadmill at my mom's house over the holiday weekend. I am the ONLY one who can get this done!

Next August I will be turning 26. I will no longer be in my early-twenties. And, depending on who you talk to, I will no longer be in my mid-twenties. Next August, I will have four more years of my twenties. And you know what damn it - I WILL BE THIN! I will be the person I want to be!

This is going to be my last bad week. If I gain from this point on, it's just my body working out it's own issues. I am going to eat right. I am going to get to the gym. I am going to get back into the habit of blogging and holding myself accountable. I want to finish this!!!