They very definition of self control.

Joey's been craving a burger lately. He's rather like a woman on a PMS rage when he gets on a kick for something--and it's usually in the form of meat or chocolate. See? PMS, totally. And since "happy husband, happy life" is also a thing, we went to Red Robin last night for dinner.

I've eaten my body weight and then some in soups and salads lately, so I knew what I didn't want off the menu. Be good, Kristi. Be good. Noticing they had a lettuce wrap option instead of a bun, I went for that with the turkey burger patty. To push myself to the absolute limits, I also ordered bottomless....broccoli. Thrilling.

If you've known me for a minute, you know how serious of a situation this is. No bun. No fries. NO CARBOHYDRATES FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS GLUTEN. By its very definition, this is self-control to the nth degree.

I would like to go on the record to say that lettuce wraps were invented by idiots. Lettuce ≠ hamburger bun. Lettuce = salad. Hamburger > salad.

I'm probably going to be grumpy for awhile. You've been warned. But at least I'm funny when I'm grumpy, right?

I've never had a bracelet tell me I'm lazy before.

A few weeks ago I buckled in and bought the Fibit. Essentially, a wrist/wearable pedometer that goes the extra mile. Pun intended. Basically, I wear it and it tracks all the things: steps, distance, calories burned, "very active" minutes and sleep.

I wanted to wear it for a week without really changing my normal behavior to see what a true lazy ass I really am. Spoiler alert: turns out I don't move enough. You're supposed to get around 10K steps a day...I hit maybe half that. My "very active" minutes were pretty much a joke and we won't really discuss my sleeping habits around here. (That, I do plenty of.)

I'm a REAL glutton for punishment, so I also recently decided to add Weight Watchers to the list of things that make me want to fling myself off a bridge. See also: Barre classes, sit ups, running, and drinking more water/less pop.

So far (two weeks "all in"), I'm down about 5 lbs. and I haven't had any urges to a) eat my arm; 2) throw the scale out the window; or c) cry. This blog post basically serves as my therapy session to not participate in the above actions. And also to keep me from walking to the breakroom for a Snickers bar.

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