Tuesdae

I'm kind of pissed off and disappointed in my self all in one. Last night, although I finished my around-the-house stuff (dishes, etc.), I didn't do a single thing I wanted to do for myself aside from playing more SSX 3 and reading a few chapters of Cryptonomicon, which I will finish eventually. I was going to try to pound out a couple of query letters for some freelance work (thanks, in part, to Jon, who encouraged me, whether he knew it or not, to get the hell out of my writing funk and move my ass). I was going to revisit a short story I think will work for the newly-revamped "Amazing Stories" journal. And, I was going to work on The Crocodile Man. None of those things I did.

To make matters worse, after walking in yesterday, my body went through one of its little freak-outs where it said "holy crap, we're losing weight, we've got to eat!!! So I had the uncontrollable urge to jam food in my cakehole all day yesterday, and even though I was pretty good about it, only had one bowl of Gardetto's (which is pure carbs, d'oh), I still feel like I ate way too much and I'm not accomplishing anything. I think this is partially because I don't have a scale in my house to measure progress, to see if I really am losing weight or not, but that's because I've convinced myself this isn't because of numbers, but of general, overall health. But I think that's a lie, because deep in my mind, I want to see the 180 lbs I weighed my senior year of high school.

And, this morning, it looks like I won't be able to walk in because of the rain.