Null and Void

6.2, Twilight-fans. Getting interestingly higher day by day - can't help wondering if that's anything to do with the actual meals I'm eating each progressive day, or whether the last of the  meds I was invited to drop last Monday is leaving my system and either a) it was a bad move after all, or b) I'm normalising at the higher end of the safe spectrum, which will presumably decrease over time as the weight comes off.

Went up to see my folks this afternoon, and stayed for dinner. Traditional Sunday dinner - two kinds of potato, Yorkshire pudding, pork, stuffing, gravy, all that. It was frankly gorgeous, and I ate it eagerly.

Then we came home, and I jumped straight on the bike.

It occurred to me, as I pedalled away a (by this stage) piddling little 600 caloriesworth of energy, that there's something altogether pointless about this kind of behaviour - taking in the calories only to burn them off again. It would be soooo much simpler not to eat a damn thing in the first place. Except of course, biochemistry doesn't work that way. If you stop eating, your system hordes what you've got (or so I'm told), in a kind of Hell-no, We won't go protest against weightloss. So - until there's a better way - I eat, and then burn, and eat and burn and try to find some sort of null space in the middle, where I end up just a little ahead of the game each week.

I'm sure, when my death-bed, or death-cliff, or (my personal preference), my death-5-items-or-fewer-aisle catches up with me, there'll be a moment when I resent the Hell out of biochemistry and all the time I spent trying to achieve, essentially, a null, void space from twice as much time and effort as doing nothing would have taken.

The point, as I occasionally have to remind myself, is to put off the death-aisle for as long as Disappearingly possible.

Oh, and while I remember - had a punch in the nose from my own nature tonight. Long-timers will remember my disbelief that people can leave sweet stuff on a plate, or be offered it and simply turn it down. At my folks, I followed dinner with a fruit salad, while d had strudel and ice cream.
"One scoop or two?" asked Ma.
"Oh, just the one," said d.
And from deep in the depths of my Disappearing soul, a three-headed dragon rose up and roared "ONNNNNNNEEEE????!!! DO YOU NOT REALISE IT'S IIIIIIIIICE-CREEEEEEEAM, DAMMMMNIT????!!!!"
I speared a chunk of pineapple, instead of allowing the dragon to burn through my skin and fly around the living room incinerating every ice-cream-eating body in the house.

Funny - thought I'd put all that kind of sweet-demon Hell behind me. Guess that whole "One day at a time" schtick actually never gets old after all.

Sonofabitch.