My pants are snug; it must be time to starve myself again

I broke the news last week that I was divorcing my food.

I was doing really well last week; I worked out a few times during my lunches and ate sensibly. But then I went out of town with my husband.

We went up to Minneapolis so he could attend and speak at Twin Cities Code Camp. Rarely did a moment go by where there wasn't some sort of free food around so I ate it...and I gained back any weight I may have lost last week. I couldn't go a weekend, apparently, without being separated from my food.

To make matters worse, when I got home I saw my ass in a pair of capri pants I'd just put on. The sight nearly made me vomit (which wouldn't have been a bad thing come to think of it).

So here I sit, at my kitchen counter. It's 65 degrees outside in Chicago and my ass is parked on a kitchen stool. Well, that's what it was going to be doing (that and some coding for work) until I put these pants on. Now, my ass is being hauled outside for yard duty (also known as a workout).

Gah!!!!! I need counseling to get through my weekend rough patches.