Again and again and again and again. . .

Christ almighty, this is my second day back at the gym after starting and stopping about four times since my last post (5 months ago). This is the state of affairs: I went on vacation and spent time in a swanky hotel complete with a scale. It said 230.

Oh.My.Fucking.God. For the third time in my life I officially weigh more than I ever have. I found new stretch marks (tiny purple ones) starting across my belly.

That's it. I'm done.

I don't know what to do about monitoring my food. I just never stick to anything - writing it down, counting calories, eating only off of small plates, whatever. I can say one thing, though. My budget is in a shambles right now and I have recently incurred the expense of before and after-school care for my kid. So. . . In theory I am too broke to eat out. Now if I can just stick to that, maybe it'll help a little.

Of course I just ate frozen pizza and bacon for dinner. But I did an hour at the gym this morning! I know, that doesn't really even out, but at least I didn't eat that crap and sit on my butt all day.

(Sigh)