A Confession

Do you remember my post in May about being pathetically tall and flabby? I told myself I would kick it into gear. It is about four months later, and I have yet to follow my own advice. My proof: the love handles that have taken over my waist, the lack of triceps or biceps, and the fact I'm most likely sucking in my stomach when this picture was taken.

My sneakers have been used maybe six times since May, and I did a total of two weeks of Pilates sessions in my room.

Currently, I have cheese puffs to my right, Peanut M&Ms to my left, and an empty glass of apple juice behind me. A seemingly horrible combination, I know, but when eaten separately, it is munchies bliss.

When I was a child, these things were never permitted in the house. But now that I am an adult and have full access to junk food, I just can't seem to get enough.

I wish working out was something that I enjoyed as much as doing crafts, but I hate the pain and the smells and I also find it all incredibly boring . Also, now that I know that my wedding gown is fully adjustable whether or not I lose or gain weight, I have lost even more urge to head to the gym.

It doesn't help that Brandon is so good at telling me that I am beautiful and still checks me out, even after five years together (boy, am I lucky). He makes me feel like I don't have to change a thing, although I know that he wishes I took better care of myself.

My only drive now is pure guilt. I want to look my best for Brandon, and I want to be healthy so that we can live long lives together.

While I have come to accept that I will never get myself to work out daily, there are some effortless things that I can continue to do in hopes of losing those extra five to eight pounds:

-Buy groceries that are low-fat, sugar-free, light, low in calories, etc.

-Drink more water

-Eat more fiber. I started taking Benefiber on Monday, and I have already dropped two pounds.

-I signed up for a strength training class two times a week at Fullerton. If anything will get me to work out, it is the pressure of maintaining a high GPA.

-Realize that I don't have to clean my plate, even if it is so good.