The Downside (or at least the one that involves my vanity)

Remember when I said I wasn't going to let this derail me? Yeah well I lied. I got up this morning and dutifully weighed in and was horrified to discover I have gained another 2 pounds in 3 days.

I had kind of pictured myself at the end of my 6 week recovery with Linda Hamilton-esque arms and Kate Moss's atrophied back side. Instead it seems I'm turning into Jaba the Hut.

And while I confess that I did call Mr F around 4 pm yesterday and whisper into the phone "Boston Creme cupcake"... that's not even particularly unusual for me... and I didn't eat it all (although I did also have the white half of a black & white cookie..). The thing is I'm not eating more than I was, say, last week... or the week before that... less, really, I can assure you of that. And yet my weight has suddenly and menacingly spiked higher than it has in a year and a half.

So I'm finding the motivation to stick to a calorie limit, when my bottom side is obviously decided the only way to protect itself from sheer agony is to fatten itself up, hard to come by. In fact I think for the sake of my sanity I should just let this one go for now.

I blame the vicodin.