January Weight Loss Summary

Already the fourth of February. Haven't acquired the gift I intend for my beloved Sherry. Still haven't written up my January weight loss progress. Sometimes I wonder if I should track my progress daily; on those days I should recall this day.

I didn't record my weight today. I think the batteries on the scale need changing, because I stepped on it and got four different numbers. That has happened before; in those cases I entered the previous day's number into the spreadsheet. I still haven't decided what number to submit.

Days like this make me want to quit. My stomach ailment is flaring. It's possible there are worse things to suffer. Not knowing what it is makes that hard to say.

I just feel like I have to write something. I wrote a comment to Althouse's blog yesterday, then stared at it for five minutes. Then I deleted it. There were too many boxing references, and I couldn't let my words stand.

Words freak me out that way. I don't like when I put words out into the ether, and they don't go down well. As though there are universal adjudicators out there who will stuff the wrong ones back down my throat, if I am not careful.

I have been ruminating about Bill-O's interview with 44 for two days. While I walk the dogs, I formulate syntax that would describe my feelings about the interview, for the people who read the comments of the blog.

The interview disturbed me deeply, and I am still thinking about it. My first impression was that Bill-O has not a scintilla of charm, and he tipped his pitches. The network should give the next interview to Megyn.

The interviewer should decide beforehand what they want out of the meeting. Whether they want a "gotcha" moment, or do they want the subject to honestly reveal something about themselves. I believe that both of those goals were unattainable with Bill-O. He doesn't have the ability to put his subject at ease.

I thought about quitting my diet today. I could have eaten a bunch of carbs and just said fuck it. But I couldn't really eat anything. There were some salted almonds in the morning. After lots of chicken broth. My stomach feels like it hasn't emptied completely. If I were completely faithful and mindful of my perceived hunger, I wouldn't eat at all. Then around two, my blood sugar would bottom out, and I would eat, then, bad food choices the rest of the day.

It feels like acid reflux without the burning, and there is a cramp between my stomach and intestine. If I push on the cramp, then I can make myself pass a little gas. But I get tired of that, and tired of eating vegetables to lose those last five pounds, and dream of day after day of foot-long subs loaded with vinegar.

Tonight I decided on twelve-year old scotch, hoping that the alcohol would kill whatever parasite took up residence in my duodenum. I started 'juicing' in January, using the magic bullet to pulverize beets and brussels sprouts and daikon radish and kale and ginger. I ended the month at 183.97 lbs, after beginning the month at 185.17. That was a net loss of 1.2 pounds, which was about the same as December.

There were fifeteen down days in January. There were twelve up days. And there were three days unchanged. Hm, only makes thirty, oh well.