This is going to be a whiney post, so feel free to skip it. Seriously, whiney. I have a 2-year old at home - I know whiney. And this is going to be whiney.
I want restriction. I am not just hitting the wall with my dieting. I splatted against the wall like a fly. I am done. Done. Done. Done. As in not rare or even medium. But well, well done.
I was hanging on by a thread until yesterday, and all hell just broke loose. I am not surprised - 6 or 7 weeks is about how long I usually make it. And hmmm, oh, yeah, today is 7 weeks.
I won't go into details so as to not send your salivary glands into overdrive. But let's just say that last night's dessert (which I indulged in) might have found its way onto this morning's breakfast plate. Ok, the remains are in the garbage, and I shall repent at lunch.
Mentally, I keep falling into 'last supper' mode. I know once I get restriction, several things are going to be off limits, most likely. And mentally, I want them before my fill next Friday. However, I will get back on track right now and not let the madness continue.
Is it next Friday yet?