I’m still losing weight. I’m not sure what’s going on. I just don’t want to eat. This has never happened in the history of the universe.
I’m not nauseous. I can eat whatever I want without any problems. My body is sometimes hungry but my brain doesn’t care. Then when I do eat I stop after just eating a bit. It is like some crazy dietician with perfect portion control sense is inhabiting my brain and saying, “Stop” when I’ve had the recommended amount. The other day we ordered pizza. The SO and I always could eat a whole pizza with no problems – four pieces for each of us. I had two slices and was perfectly content.
I got in trouble for this the other day. I go to Ruby Tuesday for the salad bar on Mondays and Wednesdays. They all know me there. I hadn’t been there when I was sick. I went back for the first time on Monday. I had a small plate of salad. The waitress was totally ignoring me and wouldn’t bring my bill. I was starting to get annoyed. Finally she came over and said, “Are you only having one plate? You always have two.” I didn’t realize they knew that. I said that one was enough for that day and she looked at me like I’d gone crazy. Today I made sure to have two plates even if the total volume of food was less.
I have no interest in snacks at night. What’s up with that? I’m starting to think that I’ve been possessed by the spirit of Jenny Craig or that at some point during one of my high fevers the skinny girl who supposedly lives inside all fat girls seized control of my brain.
I’m not complaining but I’m mystified. I think I’m down about 15 lbs from my high point. Believe me that the high point was way too high. Worrying about being able to stuff my fat butt into my jeans kind of too high. I’m just going to go along with my inner diet queen for as long as it lasts even though I’m still slightly irked that my secret to weight loss is truly coming down just to “Eat Less, Stupid.”