Fat Bastard Measuring Device

             If I were to write a parody of Somebody Save Me by Jelly Roll... The music video well it would be me eating junk food, fast food, and portions that are not proportional. I have been thinking it's time to step on the scale again and see where I am actually at. Well, Saturday, I stepped on the scale. It said 380 pounds. I have a minor mental crisis. I stepped off the scale. I stepped back on the scale. Same results. Then I realized the scale was broken. It was measuring weight even when noting was on it. I ordered a new scale same-day delivery.   

            Well I am not going to sugar coat this because I don't need more sugar. That broken scale was not that far off. I DO NOT like what I see. This to my knowledge is the heaviest I have ever been. Yeah, it is only 20 pounds more than what my usual has been for years. But I feel like if I don't actually make a change right now, I am headed for a star role in an episode of my 400 pound life. 

            Before anyone gets on my ass about negative self talk. I need to be real right now, I need to be unfiltered. I need to be bluntly honest with myself and the world. This is a problem. I feel pretty low right now. Also, yes, I named my scale Fat Bastard Measuring Device. I call it as I see it. 

            As Shelby likes to remind me, I am closer to 40 than 30. Dick... I love you. I know that with age, it becomes harder to correct this issue. Not that it is really easy to begin with. I went a bit nuclear today, and I meal prepped like a motherfucker. I portioned, I seasoned and I did not cut corners.     

            I called upon all the Gods of health and assembled overnight oats. I added cinnamon and cyan pepper. I used a protein shake for the liquid. I hard-boiled eggs. I purchased bananas and apples. I replaced my snacks with dried seaweed. I am not fucking around. 

            I made chicken breast in the instant pot. I followed it up with long grain brown rice that I added onion and all manner of peppers to. Like I said, called upon all the Gods of health.  

            I wish I could say that I know I need to cut soda or lay off the cocktails. I rarely drink soda. I have maybe two drinks a month. My easy outs are gone. I did meditate on the false idol of Little Debbie and how I had a month and a half run of offering her oatmeal cream pies unto myself. 

            Depart thee hence Little Debbie, a new God has arrived, and his name is broccoli. He has the three witnesses with him salads, fruits and portion control. His minion the Holy Ghost also known as Salmon is in the freezer right now waiting to descend upon me when I find a worthy recipe to receive his Holy Spirit. I hope at least some of you are laughing at this. If I don't laugh, I will be a mess. Right now, I can't even say I am depressed. I am angry with myself, and now is the time to harness the anger and turn it into burned calories.

            Enough about my weight for the moment. Here is a picture of Jackie with her favorite roller derby girl. We took her to a Happy Valley Derby Doll charity match in Lehi last night. She apparently talked her moms ear off about it after I dropped her off.

            That is all I have in the tank for tonight, everyone. I will be back soon with an update to my current peril and back to my regular content. Thank you for attending my freak-out. 

Bishop :(: