Success...

...can sometimes only be glimpsed once failure has been plastered on the walls in front of you.

In that vein, here's hoping for some more success with this "counting calories" thing.  My gracious and encouraging husband remarked the other night, unsolicited, that I appeared to be losing weight.  I laughed haughtily at him and crawled into bed.  "Yeah, okay, honey," I sniffed.

I love him.  I haven't been to the gym this week, despite my sudden burst of energy and four visits there last week.

Haven't lost any weight yet.  Lost my temper?  Yeah.  Lost my resolve?  Almost.  Lost my mind?  Getting there.  At least this whole process is making me more keenly aware of what I actually eat, rather than allowing me to mindlessly gobble calories I'm not even really enjoying.  That's a step in the right direction, eh?

The Chick-Fil-A sandwich today was totally worth it.  I'll eat oatmeal all day tomorrow to make up for it if I have to.  Heck, Chick-Fil-A is always worth it.

I love you, Chick-Fil-A.