After getting myself settled sometime near 4am, I managed to get some sleep. I groaned at the idea of spending another day eating crap, so I decided to gorge on foods that I know are high in fat but haven't been cooked in a fryer. Turns out, that wasn't much better.
Breakfast: Candy and three eggs scrambled with cheese. Barely finish eggs as they just sort of slosh in my mouth, not wanting to go down.
Lunch: 2/3 of a small sausage pizza. Nearly vomit as I finish my last pieces.
Dinner: I have utterly given up on gorging myself tonight. I refuse to wake up at 3am again, dying of stomach pain. Settle for two bowls of Apple Jacks. And a crap ton of candy.
Totally bummed that I missed out on Cold Stone. But I'm pretty sure it would have been the death of me and I like Cold Stone. Don't want to put them out of business because I exploded all over their place like a water balloon you've overfilled.
I spent time today getting my food ready for the week. It would be an understatement to say that I was shocked when I saw how much food 100 grams is. To give you an idea, below is my lunch for tomorrow - cherry tomatoes and chicken breast:
Um, wait. WHAT???
That food scale in the picture is brand new, just for this. My mom told me I didn't need it, that 3.5oz/100g of chicken is about the size of my fist. Guess what. It's not.
As I was adding the tomatoes to the scale, I expected I'd get at least 20 tomatoes out of it. So I slapped a bunch on it. Then had to start taking them off. A lot. I cried as I dropped ELEVEN cherry tomatoes into a plastic bag for my lunch. Yes. ELEVEN.
It only got worse as I moved onto the chicken. At least then I knew it was going to be worse than I'd originally anticipated. It's like the warning on the side view mirror of a car: Warning! 100 grams of food is smaller than you think!
Because I know myself and know that if I'm not proactive about this I will just have candy for dinner, I also packaged frozen shrimp into 100g baggies. Want to guess how many shrimp it is? No? I'll tell you. SEVEN. Yes, SEVEN shrimp. That's what I'll be having for dinner. Oh, that and my ELEVEN tomatoes.
Commence weeping.
This morning's weigh-in: 230.2
Just a thought: If you see me tomorrow afternoon or evening, and I look at your arms funny, I recommend you step back a few feet. I'm not saying I'd actually rip them off an fry them up like chicken, but I am saying it's probably better we don't take the chance.
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