No. More. Junk.

Reading over the last several entries on my blog... sort of made me realize just how much of a junk food freak I am.

OK, so I just got back from Ireland where I'll admit to inhaling insane amounts of the best chocolate on earth, and even brought a stash home with me. Which I've been, you know, delving into, every now and then. Fairly often, in fact. Every day, a couple of times, actually. 

However... when I stepped on the bathroom scales this morning, it was merely with the notion of reaffirming to myself that my recent wandering ways in the sweets department had not really done any damage. At all.

But. Let's just say, that when I cringingly stepped off that dreaded measuring apparatus, I vowed to begin a whole new food regime. El pronto.

You're laughing!

Trust me, at the sight of those new numbers, I was NOT laughing.

So bye-bye Roses. Twirls. Toffee Crisps. Heros. Flakes. Lion Bars.
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

But I honestly didn't love the counters that showed up on the bathroom scales this morning.

So hello to scant and skinny and sensible portions of fruits and vegetables.



  

No mercy allowed. Today I filled up on the H2O and even did a 5k walk at lunch. And believe it or not, I sweated on a 5k walk. Embarrassing, I know.

So I'm bound and determined to see significantly lower numbers the next time I connect with those blessed bathroom scales.

Bah.