For the second time since starting my weight loss journey, I was away for nearly a week, which means that I did not weigh myself during that time. I find that my daily weigh-ins are one of the best tools I have for keeping myself (mostly) on track. Because of that, I am always worried that I am going to come back from vacation and be disappointed by the numbers on the scale.
For the second time since starting my weight loss journey, I came back from my trip and was happy with the numbers on the scale. Despite this ranking among the worst trips of my life, I have actually lost four pounds since leaving home. This, despite the stress and anxiety of my passport debacle; despite the absolute and complete mess that I have made of my life, completely of my own doing. Despite shawarma plates and pistachio ice cream, fast food hamburger and fried chicken and eating on the road and everything else, I have lost four pounds in the last six days.
Yesterday I wrote that my life was falling apart. I have nobody to blame but myself. I will not go into any details, but I cannot remember ever feeling so low.
I dropped Leslie and her son off at the airport in Long Island yesterday afternoon as planned. Originally, the plan was for me to stay one more night in Long Island, but I had no interest in doing that. As I sat in the Departures Lane of the airport in Islip, I tried to tell my GPS to plot a route for Home. As if my smart phone understood my existential trauma, it was reflected in the response ‘Error: Unable to find a route.’ I tried several times, but it was not having it. It was as if even my phone did not know where home was. In the end, I just plotted a course for Niagara Falls, New York. Somewhere along the way I would try again and get a more accurate reading. Anyways, I was only planning to get past Manhattan, and would stop for a few hours when I was tired – either in the Catskills or beyond. I am past the age where I will drive all night fighting fatigue and freebasing coffee to get to my destination in better time.
Driving from Long Island to Ontario requires you to drive through Manhattan. This is never fun, but it is probably better on a Sunday afternoon than a weekday. It took nearly two hours to get over the George Washington Bridge, and I drove another hour until I stopped for gas in a little community in the Catskills. I do not know where I was, but there were several Hassidim there, both at the gas station and walking on the street. I filled my tank, I used the washroom, and I got the leftover chicken strips from lunch that were in the back seat. I hit the road, and only after I was on the highway, I realized that I had not bought a cup of coffee. Okay, I would either make another coffee stop, or I would just stop and sleep for a few hours.
I do not know how I made it from there to the Peace Bridge without coffee and without stopping. As I waited in line, I filled out my ArriveCan form on my phone, and was through the border in about 20 minutes or so. I pulled into my parking lot at 2:00am.
I do not know how I managed to get any sleep, but I did. Not only that, I do not remember waking up in the middle of the night to pee… which meant that when I did finally get up to do so, I was unable to get back to sleep. Too much going on in my mind. If I am so much lighter, how come my head and heart feel so heavy?
Anyhow, I am back on track today… I had a meal replacement shake for breakfast, and sometime in the next few hours I will go to my neighbour’s to pick up Her Royal Floofness.
Have a great day folks!
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