One Day At A Time

                                   The Scale is Evil Last year from January 2nd through August I rocked my workouts and my eating habits were under control. For the first time I actually thought I'd be under 200 lbs, which has not happened in about ten years. Oh but my birthday arrived, then the hubbs, then Turkey day, and Christmas. How the pounds did not creep on but jumped back on with eagerness. I stepped on the scale and my face instantly crumpled into a look of disgust. It's not like it was areal surprise, but I could not believe how all of my hard work was gone down the toilet in a matter of months.  So I started my self torture last Monday. It's only day four and I have been a miserable grump. I have argued with the hubbs two days in a row over nothing. I think about food before I go to bed, at 3 am, and as soon as the alarm goes off. I measure the food, I eat the proper portion size, and I wanted to shed a tear when my daughter enjoyed chocolate chip pan