I awoke Saturday morning and weighed in - 256.1. Almost back! Of course, since I was close, it was clearly time to eff it up, right? Ugh.
I was low on food supplies, and was facing the reality that payday is Monday morning. That meant that I was at the mercy of my Target gift cards - $40 to be exact. So The Gal and I went shopping and decided that it would be fun to have a White Trash Weekend for our dinner. As such, we had Kraft macaroni and cheese, Spaghetti-Os with sliced franks (so delicious!!!) and for desert, Jello. How trashy! But more importantly, how sodium-rich!
Then yesterday we decided to walk over to a pub for a spot of lunch and a beer. It was probably around half-a-mile, maybe a bit more. I wore my flip-flops, and wouldn't you know it, my pinkie toes developed some nice baby blisters by the time we arrived. Blargh. After lunch we ambled back, and this time I just went barefoot, looking to avoid making things worse. Unfortunately for me, I'm an idiot. Not only was barefoot walking rough on the soles of my apparently-coddled feet, but along the balls of BOTH feet I scored myself some nice heat blisters!
There I am, trying to soak them in the tub and clean the feet off, then propping them up on the ottoman while The Gal went to work with a pair of tweezers and a paper towel to wipe up the goop.
So very unsweet.
The rest of the night I alternated between walking as though I'd had my ass roughed up by some prison lifers, and doing my best to walk normally in a pair of sneakers while biting down to hide the pain from The Gal's folks when we went to dinner.
This morning at the gym I put the flip flops back on to take a shower, and yikes - not my best idea. Furthermore, my work shoes and their decidedly lacking padding have me hobbling about like an arthritic geriatric.
And yet, all in all, a great weekend was had. Well, until I stepped on the scale this morning.
We're done being white trash.
Oh, and fuck you sodium.