What is it about the holidays?
I started eating without regard to health, vitamins, carbs, etcetera during Thanksgiving week and before I knew it, there I was, sloth-like on one or another couch, slamming back glasses of wine earlier and earlier in the day, and the inside of the gym was but a distant memory.
I meant for it to stop as soon as the holiday ended. But, when does the holiday actually end? At first I thought that Friday would be a good day to start eating sensibly again and return to the gym. But, then, that whole “Black Friday” thing happens and the traffic is too awful to face and so I couldn’t go to the gym and work out, much less venture to a grocery store for salad fixings.
Saturday seemed right. And, somehow, I did make it to the gym. However, it had been SUCH a long time since last I’d been there (four damn days) that I couldn’t just jump back in full force. I did a little cardio and then walked around the machines and thought about using them. Then I thought some more and hit the sauna instead, where I napped. Followed that with a shower and dinner and massive amounts of wine with friends.
Monday, well, Monday, I had so many carbs and so much wine and so little exercise from Wednesday of last week through Sunday – I think I just blacked out all day Monday. I don’t remember a thing. I know I went to the gym but I can’t remember what happened there except that it ended at Starbucks.
Finally, yesterday, I got back on track. Started the day with a shake – as in, a protein shake, and hit the gym, and ate right all day, and ended up at happy hour(s) sucking down four glasses of wine. It was half price. What’s a person to do?
But, I swear: Today I am Good Charlie. I have had my shake. I am heading to gym. I am swearing off wine and sweets and sugar and white flour until December 23 when the holiday bacchanals begin. Really. I am.
Except, last night my car started acting up. And so now there’s that with which to deal. And my phone is misbehaving as well. And I still have a ticket I haven’t paid. Oh, and an inspection I need to have done. And I don’t have health insurance and can’t get on the website. Oh, and I got another rejection – this isn’t counting the personal ones, this is about writing. And . . . well, who could blame me if I suck down a bag of chips now and again?
Just call me the Christmas Goose.