Fifty four weeks out from surgery, and here are the numbers I care about:
- Weight: 2??
- Blood Sugar: ???
Yeah, I’m still on vacation. I’m still eating responsibly, although I had my richest, carbiest meal in a year and a half last Sunday, courtesy my sister-in-law Telishia. The woman knows how to cook pasta, damn. I still only had a cup of it, and that was enough to put me down for the night, but DAMN, I wanted to eat a bucket of it and explode into sweet oblivion. And I’m getting outside, walking around a bit, getting some fresh air and sun. I have to say, it feels flat out irresponsible to not weight myself or check my blood sugar for three weeks, but, as I keep telling myself: This is part of what having a better life is all about.
I read for seven hours last Saturday. For fun. I haven’t done that in at least eight years.
This morning we woke up in Seaside, OR and tonight we’re staying in Brookings, OR. We drove through 320 miles of Oregon coastline today and literally said, “Wow, look at that,” every few miles. Literally. The California coast is amazing, but Oregon is ridiculous. Every time we passed a college or high school we made a mental note of what town we were in. Oregon might be calling.
By the way, one of the perks of driving down the pacific coast is the endless supply of smoked fish and fresh produce. As we drove today we made meals of smoked salmon, scallops, and two varieties of cherries (not at the same time, obviously, because barf).
I’m happy.
Here, have a graphic:
