Yesterday was *the* day. You know that day. The day where one thing leads to another and the next thing you know you find yourself on the couch with a large (skinny*snort*) vanilla bean latte, a bag of chocolate covered peanut butter filled pretzels, a slice of left over deep dish pizza from the previous night and a pity party in the making. Never had that kind of day? No? Denial ain't just a river in Egypt for your then is it?
Yesterday started out typical. It was Brad's day off. I started my day out okay. Had a play date at an indoor play ground with the kids, from there went to my Weight Watchers meeting, didn't have time for lunch. James was rewarded for going poop in the potty by being allowed to go to the Bulk Barn to choose a candy reward and that's probably where it all went down hill. I happened to notice a bin of Milk Chocolate covered peanut butter filled pretzels. OF COURSE I had to try some. I mean, creamy sweet milk chocolate. Salty smooth peanut butter. Salty crunchy pretzels. Who in their right mind could pass up this once in a lifetime flavour experience? Then because there was a mild snow storm and it was just across the street, I HAD to get a latte.
Sad part? They pretzels gave me a tummy ache and I had maybe a quarter of my latte. I don't know how many of the pretzels I actually had. Yesterday I didn't bother doing my points at all. I had planned on pretending like yesterday didn't happen and just go on about my business and beg ignorance come weigh in time. Honest, I don't know WHY I gained this week. I was a perfect angel. What good would that be though? Lying to myself and any blog readers I may actually have. What is the point of this then? Why pretend I'm perfect and my life is perfect? It isn't. So I did my points. I looked up the nutritional info on line for my pretzels and it isn't pretty. 4.5 grams of saturated fat? Seriously?
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