Weekends are Evil.

As far as weight loss goes, this weekend SUCKED. I went out Friday night, intending to have a side salad or something similar at the pub, and just a few Amstel Lites. I ended up having half a hamburger, like 8 Amstels, and a bunch of shots of whiskey. So I went home and took 5 laxatives.

Saturday I ate nothing and exercised like a maniac, but then Saturday night came, and being delirious from overtiredness (I can't think of any other explanation), I went out and ate a TON of Pizza Hut. I took a bunch of laxatives again, but apparently not even the most extra-strength of laxatives are any match for Pizza Hut, so the purge failed.

On Sunday, I ran for 75 minutes straight, and then did a bunch of exercises on the Total Gym. Then my friends dragged me to Friendly's. When I got home, I discovered I was out of laxatives. I needed a triple dose of sleeping pills to get to sleep, as a result of the anxiety I am still feeling.

Today I ate: 1 larger than usual bowl of cereal, out of depression (160), 1 cup coffee (10).

But today is a NEW DAY and NEW WEEK, and I will not be beaten. For the next five days, I shall consume nothing but tea and broth, and perhaps the odd vegetable if I'm forced to go out (there's birthdays coming up, and my attendance will be required in restaurants).