Yesterday was a pretty good day. Nothing special. I got the grocery orders in first thing in the morning, then did the homedad thing for a while (housework, hanging out with Tom, etc.), then went to work. Work was good (it's exam time so the students are pretty stressed; had another guy get a bit stupid, but not to the point of getting security involved), then I came home and went for a 37 minute walk around the neighborhood.
Didn't get to bed until after 1 (because Karen has some kind of sinus infection and couldn't get to sleep), then up at 7 and even though I'm tired, I can tell that my energy levels are a lot higher than they were before. And by before, I don't just mean last year, but even last month.
So far this morning, I'm made breakfast and lunches for the kids, swept the hallway, kitchen, laundry, toilet, dining room and family room, dealt with the Coles and Woolworth's grocery deliveries, started the bread for the hamburger buns, and it ain't even lunch-time yet. And the thing is, this isn't out of the ordinary; it's just what I do. Not long ago, there were plenty of days when I didn't get that much done all day long.
And that's a big part of what this whole thing is all about. I'm not losing weight because I want to see a smaller number when I get on the scales. I'm losing weight because being so damned fat is interfering with me doing what I want. If I could do the things I want to do while weighing three or four hundred pounds, I really wouldn't give a shit about the weight.
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