Got my mind on my breakfast, and my breakfast on my mind...

My thoughts revolve around food from the minute my eyes open in the morning, to the minute they close at night.  Like a lot of fatties, I don't just eat out of hunger - I eat out of boredom, and most importantly I eat  because food is delicious (duh). Ever since my skinny life was so rudely interrupted there aren't a lot of things that I get pleasure from.  I hold myself back from things that I love because I'm self-conscious, and that in turn leaves me with little to do with my precious time.  Food is my escape.  

I woke up this morning vowing that I would try my best to eat sensibly today.  It's 10:42, and so far so good.  I've had a huge glass of water, and an english muffin with wow butter.  Great, right?  Just to give you a sense of how my head works these are the things I've thought about eating in the last 3 hours: The big bag of mini-eggs in the cupboard, taking my frozen phyllo dough out and making an assortment blueberry and apple turnovers, ice cream, hash browns and hot dogs fried up in a pan with about a half a cup of butter, a chocolate milkshake, pancakes and breakfast sausage, a hamburger with sweet potato fries (which coincidentally was last night's supper) and perhaps the most desperate of all - an Aero bar that I put in the freezer after it melted in the car last summer.  I'm holding on to the hope that since I'm writing it here, I won't give in.  I already have my meals planned for the rest of the day, and I'm planning to try to do some quasi-exercise later on.  I say "quasi" because I just can't make myself do traditional exercise. I'll probably just dance.  It's kind of my thing.  I'm tracking my food, so that is a start.

Unfortunately I am a "big picture" type of personality.  I have a hard time trying to stay focused on small goals, and get frustrated when I think about how long it's going to take me to get skinny.  I often fall back on the old "what's one more day of eating [insert random junk food here]" excuse, and that one day turns into a week, and then a month, and then a year, and here I sit (literally.)  I am wasting my life away.  There are so many things I would love to be doing, but I just don't have the courage, or the energy to do them.  I think this is the worst part of all of this for me.  I always said I wasn't that kind of person.  Back in university I had overweight friends that wouldn't come out to the bar with us because they were too embarrassed.  I scoffed at them, and shook my head.  Look at me now!!!  (It's 11:21 and I just ate a pancake.  That wasn't in my plan for the day, but I'll track it because I said I would.)

So happy Thursday to me.  Another day, another effort.  I'm thinking I'll dig out my old Weight Watchers books and maybe I'll track points this week, but don't be heartbroken if it doesn't happen.  I make no promises, especially to myself.