It seems all of us girls here at Different Paths, Same Destination have been struggling on the path to healthier, lighter selves lately. I know I have. With psycho in-laws, school, husband and kids to deal with, it's all I can do to refrain from comfort-eating my way through every bag of Doritos in my local Dollar Store. With sour cream. (Just so y'all know, I haven't done that. Yet.)
During Carnival, or Mardi Gras for the non-Cajun folk, there is a period of three weeks consisting of a continuous flow of parades, Mardi Gras balls, good food and all around immoral behavior. Most of the debauchery takes place on Bourbon Street, but it does occur elsewhere should the mood strike.
|Yes, it really gets that packed. Oogie. Grab hands everywhere.|
I haven't stepped on my scale in over a week. I don't even acknowledge it when I walk through my bathroom. Nope. Giving her the cold shoulder right now. Partially I'm afraid to see how much damage this Catholic excuse for a holiday has caused. Mostly, though, I just feel like procrastinating with it for another day. Or two.
Maybe I can treat it like lent, and after today, Fat Tuesday (how appropriate, right?), start anew on my goals tomorrow, on Ash Wednesday. Like I'm giving up fat for lent. HAHA. I'm not even Catholic, but that sounds fantastic.
Who's with me?