I stepped on the scale today and found myself at 171! An "official" loss of 2.2 pounds!
All of this despite my attempts to sabotage all my hard work again last night. I am such an emotional eater, it's crazy. We ordered Hungry Howie's pizza and cheese bread to watch the election results and I was going to only allow myself to eat what was left for my point range and flex points for the week. Sha, right.
By the time we sat down to eat it was pretty apparent that my candidate was going to lose, I just picked up the food and ate it with no regard to how much I was eating. I can't even remember how many pieces I ate.
I know I ate the crap out of that cheese bread, too, but my subconcious is blocking my memory from registering how much I shoveled in my mouth. I just knew that I needed that comfort of food and it was all I cared about. Damn emotions.
Gosh, what is it about food that we, as women, find so comforting? Is it that we are never let down by food because we know it will always be the same when we need it? I wish I could rid myself of the need to have a connection with an inanimate object. How does one reverse the psychology of how she eats if she's done it her whole life?
I guess "change" is the word I'm looking for, which is fitting, considering the events of the last 24 hours.
I've just got to change.