Time With the Mobster

Finally! After three long months we are together again. It has been heavenly. There have been a few snags but nothing to do with us- just little things forgotten or eaten.

For example, I forgot to pack my pick. I had packed pretty much everything a day or two before. I knew there were a few last minute things I needed to add, along with my toiletries, but my flight didn’t leave until 4:15 so I wasn’t terribly worried.

Then we went out to lunch before leaving for the airport and since the restaurants are at half capacity and the wait staff seems to be at about 25% capacity we had quite the wait, which meant I had all of about 15 minutes to finish packing before we needed to leave.

Somehow I forgot to pack my pick which I KNOW had to have been right there on the sink by all the rest of my toiletries. That was Friday. This is Saturday, over a week later, and I have finally bought a new brush. Seven days of no comb, no brush, no pick.  Thankfully my hair is short so I was able to fluff it out with my fingers.

I also realized once I got here that I forgot to pack two of my sports bras. I was really hoping I wouldn’t have to do a lot of laundry but if I’m going to run I guess I’ll have to.

If that wasn’t enough my dog, Ripley, ate my damn jeans the first day I was here. They’re not completely gone but they definitely have bite marks in them and I can no longer wear them.

Those were the snags. Small things compared to all that’s going on in this crazy world.

I arrived around 9 pm on Friday. They picked me up in Roanoke and we had an hour drive back home.

We left to board a plane to New Hampshire around 10:15 the next morning. The flight was pretty uneventful. We made a few stops along the way to his oldest son’s house.

The mobster showed me his old house on Haig Street. We pulled into their very nice liquor store which is actually called an outlet. It was huge! State run, of course. We bought the sparkling wine for the wedding on Monday and another bottle of peach Moscato just because it sounded good. We also grabbed an apple cider donut for each of us. They were delicious!

We finally made it to A’s house. Nothing is open in New Hampshire, or so it seems. You can grab take out but they only have outside dining right now. We eventually ended up at a little roadside ice cream stand. It sold dinner as well. We inadvertently paid over $80 for 3 lobster rolls. They were listed as “market price” and we never inquired as to what “market price” was. The mobster picked up the check and was stunned when the cashier told him it would be over $150. On the plus side they were very, very good!

Sunday the mobster and I went for a run first thing in the morning. A and Little Miss Sunshine bought whole lobsters for all of us for lunch. Two each! Sadly, they paid less for 10 whole lobsters than we did for 3 large lobster rolls. And if it wasn’t less then it was right around the same amount.

We played some Pokemon, walked to the park, and went up to Weirs Beach to walk around as well. It was great just spending time together.

Monday was the wedding. It was very short, very simple, and very sweet. It was exactly what they wanted. The mobster and I bought the cake and the sparkling wine and her mom paid for the Chinese take out.

Tuesday was return home day but we managed to work in a trip to the Flume. I saw pictures of this place in a Family Fun magazine when we were living in Virginia, so probably late 2014, early 2015. I really wanted to take my kids but life had other plans for me. When I found out I was going to be visiting New Hampshire we checked out their website and it said they were closed until the end of May for repairs. Fortunately, that turned out to be false so I got to go.

I have to say, as much as I hate all this social distancing bullshit, it was really nice having the park to ourselves for all practical purposes. I mean, I’m sure there were other people there but we didn’t see anyone else until the very end, when we were coming out and they were going in.

Needless to say, my “lifestyle change” has been upended this week. I did fine Friday, the day I left, but I have to tell you, we stopped at Dunkin’ Donuts every day we were in New Hampshire. I stuck with regular coffee with Splenda and cream or half and half, but I also had a donut. I’m not sorry either. And on Tuesday coming back home we stopped at Chick-Fil-A and I had an entire meal- sandwich, fries, and a diet Coke. First diet Coke I’ve had since May 3rd. While I did fall off the diet Coke wagon I only drank half of it and I haven’t had another one since.

These past 3 days I’ve spent a lot of time sitting on the couch, watching TV and playing games on my phone. I haven’t even been blogging. The first day back I got up at 6:30 and helped him load his truck before coming back to the house. I showered because I was all sweaty and disgusting. I read until around 9:30 or so and then I kept getting woken up every hour on the hour. The mobster called me at 10 and then again at 11. Then the alarm clock started going off at noon. I couldn’t get it to shut off completely so I had to keep hitting snooze every 10 minutes or so. I finally gave up and got out of bed. I didn’t get up until after 11:00 on Thursday. That was nice. Then on Friday I woke up around 9:30, took both dogs for a walk (big mistake!), and then went for a 3 mile run. Came home. Showered. All in all it was a very relaxing week once we got back.

It’s also been raining a lot. We went out for dinner Thursday night and to go raiding (Pokemon Go) and we got stuck in a downpour!

Went back to the same place on Friday night. Thankfully, there was no downpour this time. Plus we found the most adorable new antique store in town. So many cute things inside.

Today I went out on his route with him. I don’t feel like I’m much of a help but it was nice just being together. We grabbed lunch at Chick-Fil-A. I was good and had the Cobb salad with grilled filet. We did a little bit of raiding and we did a little bit of shopping. He grilled salmon, tilapia, and rock fish out on the grill tonight and we’ve polished off a bottle and a half of the wine we bought at the Wine and Chocolate Festival back in February. Honestly, I’m a little surprised I can even type this. 😉

Tomorrow is our last full day together. Oh, I guess that’s the last thing that went wrong actually. I was scheduled to fly out tomorrow around 3:30. I got an email while I was in New Hampshire telling me my flight had been discontinued and I was rescheduled on this new flight, taking off at 7 am on Monday morning. Yeah, I’m supposed to be at work Monday morning at 8 am. Fortunately I was able to work it out with my boss and I’ll be showing up around noon, maybe 12:30 instead. But I am thankful for the extra day with him.

Then it’s back to the grindstone. Fortunately things are opening back up and we have solid plans to spend his birthday next month together. At most it will be a month before we see each other again. Maybe we’ll even sneak in another weekend in between.

It’s been a great week. Sorry I haven’t written much this week. I had big plans to do so but life got in the way. Til next time….

This Day

On this day, three years ago, WordPress sent me a notification that a reader had liked my post, The Wacky Things Cheating Women Say.

If you have a WordPress account then you know every time someone likes or comments on your post they suggest you read their blog as well and link to three different posts. So I did. I figured I’d see what Divine Doorknobs had to say.

I read a heartfelt blog by a man who had put up with more crap than a person should have to. I read his blog as he detailed the ups and downs of being married to an alcoholic. One entry would be positive and almost giddy with relief that she was sober and working. Then the next would be the sad realization that she was drinking again. I read the whole thing from the very beginning until it culminated in her leaving him and his heart being shattered. His subsequent posts were heartbreaking in his yearning to get over her and find, as he put it, an honest love.

That day changed my life. I was going to meet the man that would turn out to be the love of my life, although I didn’t know it yet. We hadn’t made contact. I had no idea who he was. Our stories were so similar though that I had to comment. I didn’t do so thinking I was going to strike up any kind of a relationship with this person. I was just struck by the similarities and wanted him to know.

It wasn’t until the next day he responded to my comments and offered up his number with an invitation to be someone I could vent to. I told him then that I was an awful texter, plus I worked two jobs neither of which was conducive to texting. AND, I went to bed at the same time toddlers did, thanks to my super early job at Target.

The rest is, as they say, history. I have fallen madly in love with this wonderful man. He is the best thing that has ever happened to me. He is the sweetest, funniest, most romantic man in the world. He has staged elaborate, romantic evenings and he has washed out my shitty jeans. He makes me laugh and he listens when I rage on about injustices in life. He rubs my back if I ask and he’ll run and grab conditioner for me if I forget it and we’re at a hotel with no amenities. He is the smartest man evah! He is handsome and sexy. He knows exactly what to say. He is always up for anything- canoeing, kayaking, camping, ice skating, hiking. You name it he’s willing to give it a try. Because he’s up for anything I’m more likely to go outside of my comfort zone. He believes in me. He thinks I can do anything. He is exactly what a partner should be. He is my mobster, my love. He is the one that made me smile again after two really awful years.

Happy Anniversary, baby! These last three years have been fantastic. I love you more!


Virginia Bound

I am off to see my love. It has been a very long 3 months since we’ve seen each other. I will be spending an entire week with him. Can’t wait!

I am actually sitting on a plane in Chicago, waiting to take off and fly to Virginia. I am dying! This stupid mask is suffocating me and I’m dying of heat stroke right now. Dying, I tell you!

Tomorrow the three of us are flying to New Hampshire for the holiday weekend. His oldest son is marrying Little Miss Sunshine on Monday. I’m very excited for two reasons.

First, they wanted me there which was nice. Little Miss Sunshine even asked me if I’d like to come with her when she gets ready. I love this girl.

Second, I’ve never been to New Hampshire. I’m excited to get to see where the mobster used to live and to let him show me around.

I went out to lunch with my mom and my son before I left and I found out Picasso would like to go to Maine. I have also recently discovered he would like to tent camp and fish, and that he doesn’t really remember most of the places I took them to when he was younger but he is definitely interested in road trips now. It is amazing the amount of information I find out when that boy is finally lured out of his room! So, I think next year the boy and I (and the mobster and my daughter, if they’re interested) are going to take a road trip up along the coast. Maybe we’ll fly to Maine and then rent a car. I don’t know. I have a year to plan.

I am hoping I can get some writing in while on vacation but it may not be possible. This is going to be a busy weekend and we’ll have to see how the week goes. The best part though is that I get to spend it with my love.

Who Is This Person?

Back in January I was having a conversation with the mobster. He told me he was thinking of starting this program called C25K. Having done this program years ago I jumped at the chance to train with him and get back into running.

We began in mid January. We ran three days a week and started off with a whole 60 seconds of jogging at a time alternating with 90 seconds of walking. By week four I was cussing up a storm and feeling completely defeated. I couldn’t even manage the 3 minutes/5 minutes/3 minutes/5 minutes intervals, never mind the whole “run 20 minutes without stopping.” Each week I kept trying and I kept failing. I wasn’t sure I was ever going to be able to run 3 miles again.

In late February/early March I finally caved and downloaded the MyFitness Pal app. I hated it! Three whole days of torture where I was always hungry. But the mobster had been following it for 6 weeks and had lost more than 20 pounds at that time. I didn’t want to be the fat woman to his skinny man and really hated the idea of weighing more than my boyfriend so I knew I was going to have to do something. I was at my heaviest weight ever; I hated seeing myself in pictures because I knew I needed to lose weight. I downloaded a carb manager app and started watching my carb intake, limiting myself to no more than 30 net carbs a day. I made great progress in the beginning but then along came a few frustrating weeks where it seemed like nothing was budging. Fantasies of cheeseburgers, biscuits and gravy, chocolate cake, chips and salsa, and Chinese food filled my head.

For probably a year the mobster has been pointing out how bad diet soda is for me. My son has voiced concerns over me drinking it, letting me know I really need to give it up. I would agree and yet continue to drink 1-3 diet Cokes a day even as I read those articles entitled, “What Happens To Your Body When You Drink Diet Soda?” Nothing good, I can tell you that much.

Today, May 17th, I am still running. I am now able to run over an hour at a time. I’ve run 5 miles without stopping. I even have been getting up at 6 in the morning to run before work. Who would have ever thought that would happen? I was dead set against that one, let me tell ya! Now? I don’t necessarily like getting up early but I love the fact that I’m done with it before I even go to work. I’m also deliberately seeking out hills to run UP. Never would have seen that one coming.  AND I have bought some elastic bands, a set of 3 lb. hand weights, and 2 kettle bells with the intentions of doing some at home workouts on the days I don’t run so that I can build more muscle. Plus, I started taking the stairs at work. I was only using them at the end of the day instead of taking the elevator, but Friday I used them for both breaks and lunch. I went down those stairs and then when it was time to come back I went UP those stairs. Three times down and back up, and a fourth trip downstairs at the end of the day. I work on the eighth floor.

I did not give into those food fantasies. I was so good, in fact, that on Mother’s Day I made biscuits and gravy for everyone and then turned around and made myself a bacon and cheese omelet. While everyone else had Chinese food from one of my favorite Chinese restaurants I had an Atkins bar. The other night for my Mom’s birthday we went to Olive Garden. Unbeknownst to me they were only serving a limited menu so instead of having the salmon I had their salad. I lost 2.8 pounds this week despite all of those temptations and have lost a total of 30 pounds now. I’m roughly back to where I’ve remained ever since I gave birth to Picasso almost 18 years ago. It’s not a good weight for me; I still want to lose a lot more, but at least I’m back to that point instead of being 30 pounds heavier. My fat pants are falling off of me and I actually got out a pair of pants I hadn’t worn in 2 years and wore those to work on Friday. My old jeans are fitting. I’ll be breaking out the summer clothes soon and I’ll see if I can once again fit into my older summer clothes; I had to buy a whole new wardrobe last summer because almost nothing fit me anymore.

I have not had a diet Coke or any type of soda since May 3rd. I’m still going strong. Still drinking lots of water flavored with Crystal Light. Sometimes it is just water. As I said before I don’t know that I will never drink another diet Coke again. Maybe I will. I just won’t have one today.

I’m a whiner. I will admit that. I throw fits, gnash my teeth, complain endlessly, and then I do what I need to do. It floors me sometimes that I have stuck with changing my exercise habits for 4 months now. I am amazed that 3 months ago I didn’t think I was ever going to be able to run 3 miles and now I do that before I go to work. I even run 4-5 miles on occasion. I’m looking to expand my routine to include weights. I’m doing it.

I feel the same kind of amazement when I look back on my weight loss journey, seeing the first big milestone passed and now working towards the second. I’m doing all of those things I complained about- I’m giving up foods I love, cooking separate meals, skipping the pasta or the potatoes while everyone else enjoys them. There are weeks that I struggle, mainly when I don’t see much progress, but overall I pack my little low carb lunch and get on with it.

Even giving up diet Coke for now hasn’t been nearly as hard as I thought it would be. I thought I would be having major withdrawals but I haven’t. I had a moment yesterday where I thought I really wanted one, but I didn’t have one and the feeling passed.

All of this causes me to wonder, “Who is this person?” Then I realize it’s me.

Yet Another Fun Adventure With Self-Torture

Well hello there! How’s it going? Me? Oh, I’m swell. I am on day 4 of no diet Coke. I was told drinking lots of water would aid with weight loss (I think it’s a crock of shit personally) so as of Monday when I took my Arctic cup filled with ice into the office with me I have not had a single diet Coke. I do flavor the water with Crystal Light packets. Currently I am obsessed with the regular lemonade, but I also like the peach mango. If anyone wants to tell me it needs to be straight water and/or that Crystal Light is as bad for you as diet Coke you can fuck off right now. I’m in no mood.

Tomorrow is weigh in day so I’m getting a little cranky. I set my alarm for six to get up and run today but my asshole dogs have been waking me up at 4 in the morning to go out these past two days so I did not get up. I slept in until 7. I did not run when I got home either. I did get up at six yesterday morning. I even ran hills. I don’t like hills. But I did it. I had read that changing up your course would help your body from becoming too comfortable with what you were already doing. So, I ran the hills which I normally avoid.

My plan is to get up tomorrow morning at 6 (for real this time) and do about 2.5 miles before work.

Back to the diet Coke… The mobster has been trying to get me to quit drinking it for a while now. He likes to send me articles about how bad it is. I so appreciate that. However, I do realize it’s not a healthy habit.

I’ve been drinking diet Coke practically since it came on the market back in 1983 (I think). I remember being in New York City that summer when they were releasing it. I can still recall the commercial with all the celebrities walking the red carpet, being introduced to diet Coke at Radio City Music Hall. And then, of course, the jingle that promised, “Just for the taste of it!” Yes, it was so good you’d drink it even if you didn’t need a diet beverage.

I most certainly did. I loved it. I love it still. But I’m trying to be healthier and I know the mobster worries about me so…

Honestly, I didn’t even start out this week thinking I was going to be going without my diet Coke. I just wanted ice! I was tired of drinking lukewarm water. Now here I am on day four.

I don’t know how this is going to play out. I haven’t resolved to never touch another drop of soda (or pop, as we call it here in the Midwest) again. Really I’m trying to drink more water in the hopes that it will spur on weight loss once again. I’m trying to cut back on the amount of diet Coke I put into my body. The mobster tells me I have a healthy glow but I’m pretty sure he just wants me to quit drinking it. I’m not doing that bad, which is kind of surprising. I haven’t even brought in coffee the last 2 or 3 days. It’s been strictly water (well, flavored water).

We’ll see how this goes. I may have a diet Coke tomorrow. I may write again and tell you I’m on day 10 of no diet Coke. It’s a big surprise!

The Crazy Things I See

Unlike the rest of the world I have not been locked down in quarantine. I’m out every day. I go to work Monday-Friday and I am usually out running at least once on the weekend. There are definitely some weird things out there.

For instance, when I first made the move downtown we were told to park in the Century Center parking lot about 2 blocks away. The Century Center is where I had my prom both years. It has an art museum, my mom volunteers down there every Christmas serving cookies to the kids who go see Santa, and it serves as a convention center. In high school we did some city wide plays there; it hosts the wedding expo and RamenCon.

I tell you all of this so you know that it’s a fairly busy building. Except for the fact that they’re closed right now. I think that’s part of the reason why they were willing to let us park there for free.

The first Monday that I pulled into the parking lot there was a man sitting in the parking booth. I had to verify that I was with the bank.

Why?  The Century Center is closed. Who cares if I’m with the bank or not? There are literally hundreds of parking spots left, so it’s not like if I was there “illegally” all the legal parkers would be out a spot.

There was someone there on Tuesday as well. By Wednesday I decided that I was going to tell him I was there for the performance of The Lion King. I wanted to make sure I got there early so I didn’t miss the show. Originally I was going to go with Cats, but that hasn’t been around forever. The Lion King was coming to the Morris Civic Theater and they had actually just canceled their performances because of the coronavirus.

I thought that was fairly witty but alas, there was no one there. I guess they finally got tired of paying someone to sit in a booth all day for no reason.

Another strange thing I see on my drive to work is a crossing guard for adults. There are two large medical facilities on my way to work and there is a man who helps grown adults cross the street.

I thought at first he was there for the kids because a block or two away is a Catholic school but he seems to be there to help the medical personnel.

I don’t know why they need help crossing the street. You would think that’s something most people would have learned by the time they started working full time, but apparently it’s needed.

I might have to stop and ask questions one day. I’m very curious why this is necessary. I understand why we need them for children. They’re young. They can be impulsive. They don’t always look both ways. We want to protect them. But if an adult is unable to cross the road by himself or herself, how does having another adult there help? Like, do you need to be specially trained to learn to cross the road? Only professionals can do it so now they’re assisting others? So. Many. Questions.

Speaking of downtown, I’m constantly being approached by people who are asking for money. Or coffee. One of my first days downtown I came out of the Chocolate Cafe and there was a guy dressed in a pirate hat. He asked me if I could buy him a cup of coffee. That same day I had someone knock on my window while I was sitting in my car, asking for change. And just the other day as I was leaving a restaurant with our take out food a man pulled up alongside me and told me how his car had broken down on the toll road and he needed money for gas.

Finally, as I said in the beginning, I typically run through a neighborhood at least once on the weekends, and another 2 times or so during the week.

One day I was out running and I heard a dog barking. That’s not unusual. It’s a residential neighborhood. People have dogs. I didn’t see a dog, though. I did see an older woman pushing a stroller.

The barking got louder. Still no dog. The stroller got closer. I finally realized the woman was pushing her dog in a baby stroller. It may be an actual dog stroller but it looks like a baby stroller.

I’ve seen her out twice now. Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of taking your dog for a walk? Granted, it is a small dog. Probably don’t need to walk it very far or for very long. I just can’t imagine it though.

If I tried to put Milo in a stroller and take a walk with him in it he would jump right out of that thing. It would be like those days long gone by when I would put the kids in the bike trailer and I would go riding. Rock Star, demon child that she was in her early years, loved riding back there and would sit happily for 45 minutes to an hour. Picasso, on the other hand, was literally crawling out of the trailer as I rode the bike! That would be Milo. He would be looking at me like, “Why are you taking me outside and then not letting me walk freely?”

Update: I saw the woman with the dog stroller again. She was pushing the stroller but her dog was walking on a leash. Maybe the dog walks until it’s tired and then she puts it in the stroller.

I can sympathize with that. We used to have a dog that would decide she had had enough of this walking business and she would stop. Refused to walk another step. Fortunately she was a small dog so you could pick her up.

There you have it. Some of the craziest things I have seen since quarantine.


I’m struggling a bit with this weigh loss challenge. Last week you may remember I was ready to eat a cheeseburger because I had only lost 1 pound by Thursday morning. Friday came and I weighed in at 2.8 pounds less than the week before. This past week was even worse. By Thursday morning the scale still had not budged. When I weighed in Friday morning I was down a whole .8 pound. Not 8 pounds. There’s a decimal point before that 8. 8/10 of a pound is what I lost. And yesterday when I stepped on the scales? I was up more than a pound! Today I still weighed in a whole pound heavier than what I weighed on Friday.

You know, I get that I didn’t put this on overnight and I won’t take it off overnight. But goddammit, I have been working my ass off and to not even lose a pound? That’s bullshit. Why the fuck am I restricting myself if that’s going to be my payoff?

I am nowhere close to the point where I am comfortable plateauing.Talk to me in another 25-30 pounds… sure, I can hang out at that weight for a little bit. But now? No.

I ran 14.5 miles last week. Five on Sunday, 4.5 on Tuesday, 3 on Thursday, and 2 on Friday. In fact, I got up at 6 in the morning so that I could run before work, thinking maybe that would help my metabolism.

I have been sticking with my low carb diet. Jesus Christ, I have a half a cup of cottage cheese for lunch most days. That’s my main dish. There may be a hard boiled egg or a piece or two of cheese. I’m not gorging on Wendy’s cheeseburgers or chicken sandwiches. I don’t eat the croutons that come on my salad. I threw away the potato chips that came with my cheeseburger. I count carbs on everything before I stick it in my mouth. I drink coffee with sweetener only in it instead of loading it up with flavored creamer. I haven’t had a sandwich in 8 weeks. I drink lukewarm water out of the tap because we aren’t allowed to have a working ice machine and I’m already loaded up like a pack mule every goddamn day when I go into work. It sucks.

Last week I thought maybe I wasn’t eating enough so I tried to shake it up this week. I did end up ordering a cheeseburger twice from a restaurant. No bun. The first time I tried the lettuce wrap trick. Didn’t work. Burned my fingers. The second time I just used a fork and a knife. I know ketchup is high in carbs so I limit myself to one packet. I had a taco salad one day. Just lettuce, taco meat, sour cream, taco sauce, and cheese. We’d had tacos the night before so I brought the leftovers in. The other two days it was cottage cheese and hard boiled eggs.

I planned on having biscuits and gravy for breakfast this weekend. And pizza for dinner. Maybe some cake. Hell, if I’m not going to lose, or worse yet, I’m going to gain, after denying myself I may as well eat whatever the hell I want on weekends. Oh, only lost a half a pound? Not surprised. I ate like a pig over the weekend.

Instead despite being so pissed and disappointed that I was actually weighing in on Saturday morning at a higher weight I still got up and ran. I did 3.25 miles. I came home and had five pieces of bacon for breakfast. I had tuna fish salad for lunch, and steak, salad, and broccoli for dinner.

I had a bacon and cheese omelette for breakfast on Sunday, had an Atkins bar for lunch, and ate wings for dinner. I’m still debating whether or not I’m going to get up before work and run, if I’ll run after work, or if I’ll just take two full days off.

I’m trying to push through this. I’m trying to stay the course and tell myself that this coming Friday is a new day. I’m trying very hard not to let this get me down. But I’ve gotta be honest. If I weigh in at the same weight on Friday I’m saying, “Fuck it all.” I am not going to deny myself for another year or more with no results. I’m tired of never enjoying what I eat. I’m tired of having to pick the breading off of chicken my mom makes because I can’t eat carbs. I’m tired of having to go over everything with a fine tooth comb in order to make sure I stay under 30 net carbs. I’m tired of opening the refrigerator and seeing it full of things I can’t eat because I’m only one person in this household and I’m not going to restrict everyone else. I’m tired of not being able to grab something mindlessly and munch on it. I’m tired of never being able to have a piece of cake or enjoy a flavored coffee or grab a muffin or eat a cheeseburger and fries or pizza. I miss sushi. I miss Chinese food. I’m not doing it if there’s no payoff.

I know that in order for a “diet” to succeed you actually need to implement a lifestyle change. You can’t go back to eating the way you’ve always eaten. That’s why my long term plan has been to closely watch my carbs during the week, and allow myself whatever I want on the weekends. I wasn’t planning on pigging out every weekend but being able to go out to dinner and have pizza or pasta would be nice. Being able to have a glass of wine or stop at a winery for samples and appetizers would be divine. I’d like to have hash browns occasionally. Maybe a waffle. So, weekends would be my chance to indulge. I have remained diligent even on the weekends throughout this because I’m not at the maintenance stage yet.

Let me be clear on something else. I’m not eating stuff I hate. But it is definitely more difficult to follow a low carb diet when you’re outside of the house working. If I don’t get up in time to pack my lunch I have nothing to eat. Choices are pretty limited at the few restaurants that are still open. I don’t particularly enjoy eating a cheeseburger with a fork. I don’t want to order a salad from Subway; I don’t like them from Subway. I’m tired of the chicken Cobb salad at the cafe I sometimes go to; they usually mess it up somehow anyway.

I’m not going away hungry but I’m also not ever thinking, “Oh my God! That was amazing. I am so satisfied.” No, it’s more like, “I ate something that I didn’t detest. No, I’m not hungry but I wouldn’t have chosen that if I weren’t on this diet, or lifestyle change. Let me shovel this cottage cheese down my throat and wait for the next weigh in.” Seriously. I rarely enjoy my food. I don’t hate it. I don’t make myself eat stuff that I don’t like. But I don’t enjoy it and I would never say that I’m satisfied.

I can make that sacrifice as long as I am making progress and achieving my goals. I find it very difficult to keep going when I’m not making progress and my goals keep getting farther and farther in the distance. That is what’s happening right now.

I also know I have no accurate measurements from before. I can tell you how much I weighed in December of 2015 after I got off the divorce diet. I can tell you what I weighed in May or June of 2018. I can tell you what I weighed from August 2019 through December 2019. But I have no idea how much I weighed once I could finally eat again. I have no idea how much I weighed when I moved back to Indiana. I have no idea how much I weighed when I was working two jobs. I have no idea how much I weighed when I met the mobster. I have no idea how much I weighed on my last day in the banking center. There’s a good three years in there that are lost.

I know that I would like to lose a minimum of another 50 pounds and at a rate of .8 pounds lost per week, that’s going to take over a year. A year! That is ridiculous, especially considering how strict I have been.

If I’m popping cookies into my mouth once or twice a week, stopping for a Starbucks coffee, and indulging in pizza once a week? Sure. Less than a pound a week sounds great. When I’m having a half a cup of cottage cheese and a hard boiled egg for lunch every day, eliminating pasta, bread, potatoes and rice, eating a piece of meat and a vegetable every night for dinner, and running 3-4 days a week? No. Less than a pound is not acceptable. Less than two pounds isn’t acceptable. I’d better see some fucking fantastic results for that kind of dedication.

I was hoping to be about 10 pounds lighter when I finally get to see the mobster at the end of this month. I was hoping I would be able to reach the 20% body weight loss goal for the weight loss challenge. At the rate I’m going I’m not going to reach either of those goals. I made both of those goals when I was losing at least 2.5 pounds a week. In the last two weeks I’ve lost 2.6 pounds. If I keep this up I’m not sure I’m going to hit the 15% mark either. I still have to lose 8 pounds to reach that one; I’ve got 8 weeks. If I keep losing like I am I will have only lost 6 pounds by the time it’s over.

I’m done bitching. I’m going to focus on my carb loaded menu for next weekend, starting with Friday’s lunch. Meatball sub from Subway.

UPDATE: No, I haven’t suddenly dropped 5 pounds. I am only .2 pounds heavier than I was on weigh in day so that’s… progress.

No, I’m done with my temper tantrum. I’m still pissed but I’m letting it go. I had my Jimmy Dean egg frittatas this morning, took in a cup of coffee with my sweetener in it, threw an Arctic cup filled with ice in my lunch bag, and had tuna fish salad and an Atkins bar for lunch. I drank cold water all day today, some of it flavored with peach and mango Crystal Light, and came home and ran 4 miles. I was only going to do three; I don’t know what comes over me but I get a wild hair up my ass and do things I don’t expect to do.

Yes, I’m discouraged that the weight is not coming off; however, I know the scales don’t tell you everything. My daughter is home (yippee!) and she is cautioning me getting into the “diet culture” and focusing on my weight. I was walking around today, wearing my fat pants and realizing that they are almost too big to wear anymore.

I bought them and 2 other pairs when I got tired of wearing dresses all the time because all of my damn pants were too tight. My gray pair have always been a little looser than the first black pair. The first black pair is one size up from what I normally take in that brand. The second black pair is two sizes up. I bought them because I couldn’t find two pairs of black pants in the size I wanted. So the fat fat pants are definitely too big. The gray fat pants are getting to the point I’m a little afraid they might fall off of me. Not sure about the black fat pants. They’ve always been a little tighter. I know they’re looser but I’m not sure if they’re at the falling off of me point.

I’m hoping that even if the scale isn’t moving that changes are happening. My daughter assures me that it’s normal to plateau for a week or two and then you begin to lose again. I’m hoping that’s what happens to me because these last two weeks have sucked. Excuse me. They’ve been very disappointing.

Just keep swimming, I tell myself.

Serving the Punch

I need to add an addendum to my post, Quarantine Craziness, Part 1. Remember how I was telling you that my mother was civil when she had to be? That was not a lie. She was civil. And she did allow my father and step-mother in her home on occasion.

A little background. My stepmother’s name is Mary. I feel comfortable using her name because it’s a very common name. It’s not like anyone is going to say, “Oh my God! Mary! I know exactly who that is!” If her name was Sabina or Pocahontas or Beyonce I could see coming up with an alias, but it is literally one of the most common names out there.

Mary is a very odd person who knows everything. As my brother once said, “Oh good God! She’s a lawyer, a doctor, a judge, a farmer. She knows everything about everything!” When Rock Star was running track her junior year she told me she would sometimes get weather reports from her and reminders to wear sunscreen. She asked me before I got married if I would be interested in having a plain gold wedding band so that if I wanted to garden or otherwise get my hands dirty I could still wear a wedding band and not have to worry about getting my nice ring dirty. Like I even garden! She one time sent a bag of peaches to my younger brother and included instructions on how to eat them. I kid you not. For years I kept a copy of that on my refrigerator because people could not believe she gave him instructions.

Remove pit and slice into pieces OR wash and eat like an apple.

I may not have the verbiage exactly as it was but I know the second part of the instructions is accurate. That was actually one of the few times Jerry Lee showed his sense of humor. “I need more information. If she thinks I’m so stupid I don’t know how to eat a peach, what makes her think I know how to eat an apple?”

I would not testify to this in a court of law but I’m fairly certain my high school graduation was the first time my mom ever invited them to a function she was having. My dad and grandparents lived two hours away from us so on graduation day they all came up. My mom threw my graduation party and took care of all of it and was gracious enough to extend an invite to her ex-husband and the AP turned wife.

I have to say, I was not that gracious for my own daughter’s celebration. It’s not like she wanted him there, of course, but even if she had I wouldn’t have done it. At least I don’t think I would have.

Anyway, at some point before my actual graduation my stepmom was asking me if there was anything she could do. She wanted to help but she didn’t want to be in the way or overstep; she was very big on etiquette, which is kind of funny when you think about it. I’m pretty sure Miss Manners would say it’s not polite to sleep with another woman’s husband, and well, sleeping with someone else’s husband is a huge overstep. Yes, I know I had an affair with your husband but I don’t want to overstep my bounds. Would you be okay with me serving the punch at your daughter’s graduation party?

That is what she settled on. She was wondering if perhaps she should offer to man the punch bowl. So I went home and told my mom that Mary was wondering if she should serve the punch. This has led to a long time inside joke. My mother replied, “I’ll serve her the punch alright!” as she punched the air.

To this day we laugh about it. I can’t drink punch without thinking about it either.

By the way, no one served the punch. My mom remained very civil and, well it was a sunny day and we had peaches so Mary was kept busy running around reminding people to put on sunscreen and educating them on how to eat a peach. Take the easy way- eat it just like an apple.

P.S. It was a sunny day but there were no peaches. I just made that up so that I could end my post.