Ugh.

Well, this week started off pretty well- I broke my three month stall. All it took was counting calories and going to the gym.

And by "breaking my stall?" I mean, I lost one additional pound beyond the initial 5 that keep taunting me.

And then I had a horrible, frustrating, exhausting day yesterday. I collapsed on the couch, and just sort of forgot about dinner until nine PM, when I became ravenous enough to murder and eat an ox, should one have been unfortunate enough to be passing at the moment.

So anyway, my survival skills kicked in, and I ordered Chinese food for delivery. The entree wasn't too evil, but the fried rice and pot stickers I ordered to go with it? Yeah. I binged. Big Time. The awful part was? I used to love pot stickers and fried rice. And now? Meh. But it was there, and I mindlessly ate a big vat of it. When the dust cleared, I was uncomfortably full, and even MORE upset than I had been at the outset, which is pretty damn upset.

If I sound disillusioned, it's because I am. I have been trying to do Atkins, and I am just at that point, where I have to concede that it is NOT working for me. If I have to compulsively count calories and exercise like a fiend just to make Atkins work (and work slllllooooooowly, I might add), I defend my right to eat the occasional creme brulee. Dammit.

So I am thinking, I am going to cruise through the rest of this week, kind of eat what I want (within reason- as soon as I typed that,the words "big-ass box of maple bars" came to mind, which makes me believe that Satan just has me on speed-dial), but keep exercising at the gym and staying focused to start over again with a different plan next week. Back to South Beach, where I can at least have fruit and whole grains. And I'll be keeping up with FitDay.

Considering that I have a plan, hitting bottom doesn't seem quite as bad.