So it’s 13 weeks (from tomorrow) until I leave town for Coachella.
This means that in order to hit the goal I had at the start of this blog I will need to get rid (weight watcherism) of 5.4 lbs per week to hit the goal.
That ain’t happening.
The only time I lost 5 pounds in a week when I was a bridesmaid in a friend’s wedding and I found out four days before that my recent ex-boyfriend was bringing a date to the wedding. He assured me it wasn’t anything serious. When I pointed out that one doesn’t typically take a non-serious date to a wedding out-of-town, that is held on a weekday and that requires a hotel stay, I was met with the sound of crickets chirping. The upshot is he called me beforehand so I was completely blindsided AT the event. The other upshot is for the first time ever, I didn’t remain “friends with the ex.” Didn’t speak to him that day and haven’t spoken to him in 11 years.
So anyway, I now have 13 weeks to do the best I can do. So, it’s on like Donkey Kong.
And I think rather than set a “goal” number to hit I am just going to do the things I need to do and see where that gets me. Can’t hurt; might help.
Let the Wild Rumpus continue….