Man, I'd done so well this week -- working out to the extent I can, eating well, not wasting a bunch of calories on booze.
That all ended tonight. I spent nearly 12 straight hours doing that thing of which I will no longer speak. Then watched the end of the debate. Then I drank like, three glasses of wine and ate a bunch of (reduced fat!) chips. Boo, Jess. Boo.
Next week will be better. Kinda. I'm going to two Lynx games, which means skipping a workout, probably. But I'm going to the Zoo, which means a lot of extra walking. That thing of which I will no longer speak should be much better, too. I hope. Of course, everything is dependent on when my nephew will decide to enter the world.
I won't dwell too much on how much I suck. Not now. I'm too pumped up after watching Uncle Joe beat up on Paul Ryan. But suddenly, I'm crashing. So goodnight.
But I'll leave you with this: Mansplaining Paul Ryan.
Oh, and congratulations to The Boy I Currently Like's Better-Looking Friend and LL, his lovely bride, on the birth of their daughter. Can't wait to meet her!