Eesh. Turning into quite a week this.
Nice thing Monday - Tina and Greg, the gurus who put together my magazine, and who built my Jefferson Franklin website - were in Merthyr for a dog-related excursion (there's a seriously good training kennel in the town), so we all met up for dinner at the Nant Ddu - them, me, d and, perhaps a little oddly, Ma.
Thing is, we had a big meal, going on late at night, so when I got up yesterday morning to walk, I was still carrying an intestine full of gorgeous lamb, sweet potato, pork bonbons etc. Which explains why the Nazi Scales showed me at 18st 4. I told them to fuck off and die, they sneered, I went walking. The issue there was that on my long walk, I drop off Ma on the way back home, and she invited me in for breakfast, so by the time I got finally home, the day's data was corrupt.
So this morning I woke up and did precisely nothing in the way of exercise, as I'm launching my brand spanking new author website in about 30 hours from now, and at the start of the day I didn't really have one. Spent about six hours fannying about with logo designs in between chunks of day job, but now we're finally getting somewhere.
But when I weighed in, officially - yeah, you heard me, today's the official one - I was:
18st 0.75. That means I lost all of three quarters of a pound last week. Disappointing all round but there it is. Perseverence is the key to active Disappearance.
Starbucks day tomorrow, with still so much to do, both in the day job, the Jefferson job (I sort of sneaked a last quickie edit in) and web building, it hardly bears thinking about. But still going walking before the Starbucks day begins.
I mentioned the whole perseverence thing, right? On we go. There...freaking...will be a 17 in my numbers next week, dammit!
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