(Yes, Cord, I'm stealing that for this post) I think I'm in love with PB2. I may start sprinkling that shit on everything. (I will have to check with Coach K on how much of this powdery peanutty goodness one is allowed.) Thank God I don't have an entire jar of it. I only have a plastic baggie of it. (I'm looking like a junkie..my little plastic bag full of powdered peanut butter that I may start snorting. Be careful if you see me rolling up a $20.) I think I could get in trouble with it, so I may have to give my jar to Coach and have her ration it out to me in little baggies. She can be my peanut butter crack dealer. :)
I made the Peanut butter cup and just had one for snack with my morning coffee. OMFG. I seriously am in love...not just like, not just infatuation, not just a crush. I seriously fucking love it. PB2 about a tablespoon of it, mixed with water to make it a creamy past in the bottom of a little container, one packet of hot chocolate mixed with 3 T of water spread it over the Pb mixture and freeze for an hour. I pulled mine out of the freezer when the chocolate was still kind of soft, almost a thick pudding like consistency. I seriously licked the freaking bowl. SOOOO good. Now I'm cursing that I didn't order hot cocoa. I'm going to try it with chocolate pudding and see if it works.
We had a super support meeting last night. Kind of like a stitch and bitch, without sewing. Its nice to be able to talk with others who are on the plan, whether struggling with it, or kicking its ass like Lora is. It's nice to know there are other people in the boat to share with. The what works, what doesn't. How you feel, the why's...what your starting weight actually was, that sort of thing. (It was kind of a mini victory for me. Before last night, Coach was the only one who knew my starting weight. My husband doesn't even know this number. Now there are three others who do...you can now consider yourselves in the inner circle.) I told them what my starting weight was and what I had lost and they could do the math...It was a nice little motivator, ass kick type of event. I need that, a lot. In fact, we all do. We told Coach she needed to start harassing us, literally. Like at random times during the day a text saying, "Hey Fat Sajack (thank you HM) step away from the pizza and go heat up your soup," would be helpful.
I'm having a growly moment...its one of those "Are you fucking kidding me?" type of things. I'm trying not to let it bother me, or get me down, but the situation is seriously starting to annoy the piss out of me. I realize that not everyone's priorities are on the same page, but the extreme selfishness and disregard for other people's feelings/people in general, that I have witnessed in the last 24 hours blows my fucking mind. For the sake of keeping the peace and not breaking any kneecaps, I'm going to try and just let it go. I just hope someday I don't let a Jeremiah Weed induced rampage loose because it could get ugly. And in the words of Forrest, "That's all I have to say about that."
I'm thinking its going to be a cauliflower pizza night. I saw the recipe on line as I was searching for the tater tot recipe to share and it just sounds good. I'll make it a spinach and chicken alfredo one, as I have spinach that needs eaten. (Which could be another reason for the morning's growliness....Bag of spinach lying on top shelf of fridge. Open carton of heavy cream (used for a recipe--why the remainder of it wasn't thrown away, is beyond me, so don't ask) spills in fridge. No one notices or bothers to clean it up. Mom opens fridge this morning to find several funky colored drips of God knows what down the front of every shelf--upon investigation, spilled cream container is found-- bag of spinach is covered in half frozen cream, so I had to transfer the spinach to a rubbermaid container....I also did not have time to properly clean the fridge, so I tossed the majority of the cream covered shit and took the offensive shelf out and put it in the sink. Needless to say, I will have a lovely treat when I get home.)
Ahhhh the joys of being a grown up..
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