I was so lucky today. I got to go to the Dr. Man to fix my Scaitica problem. Lately it has been so bad that I envy pregant ladies when they get the epidural. I normally hate needles with a passion (mainly because they make me feel like a live vodoo doll) but the thought of having some wonderfully bliss from this annoying pain that is my jiggleicous (take that Fergie) butt. Here is where the story suddenly takes a weird turn to the left. I sat there in the Dr. Man's office waiting as usual reading those gloriously outdated magazines. I love the outdated ones because then I get to catch up on all the latest drama for your mama. When my name was called the nice Medical Assistant opened up the chute and I was allowed to stand on that wonderfully glorious scale.
Remember how I was Juile Andrews standing on top of a mountian happy yesterday?
After this moment not so much.
This is what flashed on the Scale.
218.3!
So smacking my gum (like a cow chews its cud) I looked over at the nice Medical assistant and I mooed.
Then waddled down the hall.

Bridget Jones Moment
Weight: 218.3
Attitude: Not Very Nice.
Steps: 3.5 Miles or 6720 steps.
Water: 1 liter
Breakfeast:
Eggs with 4 oz of yogurt.
Lunch:
Wendy's Side Salad with Jr. Bacon Cheese burger (the little one!) with no bun.
Dinner:
Grilled Veggies and BBQ beef.
Snacks:
1 Java Chip Frap. (Don't judge. I'm not in the mood for it).



Oh Blake. Hang in there, you are looking great, but i'm glad that you got your sciatic taken care of. yikes!
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