You know how last week I mentioned that the emotional end of the PMS-fest wasn't off the charts? Yeah, that might have been a bit premature. Last Sunday night Choreboy and I were peacefully watching TV when something in my brain flipped and we ended up having a 20-minute "discussion" involving the TV, the air conditioner, and the number 77.
I never said I was logical. And if I had, that particular moment in time would have proven otherwise.
I also did indeed make the chocolate peanut butter cake.
Full disclosure: the need for two cakes was because the first was in part for my mother's bridge group, and that combined with my kids' intake wouldn't leave enough for the office. So of course I had to make cake number two (which I liberally decorated with Reese's Pieces on top of the ganache) to ensure the office got a complete cake rather than three rather tiny slices. Clearly this was entirely a humanitarian effort.
I'm avoiding mentioning the four slices I managed to consume on my own.
So the cake didn't nuke my weigh-in. Outside of the four slices I totally didn't mention in the fine print above, my food intake was on point for the week. What gave? Well, the hormonal water retention fest nailed me, probably in conjunction with the fact that I couldn't exercise. And I'm still retaining bucketloads of that water, which isn't improving my mood in the least.
And although the cake didn't necessarily cause the scale gain, I'm relatively certain it didn't help either.
We'll see what this coming Thursday brings. I'm not holding my breath. I am, however, going to pry my butt out of this chair and go get on my treadmill post-haste. I can exercise again, and I'm going to burn off every calorie possible before next weigh-in.
Made to Feel Welcome
1 hour ago