Day 11 - Dogs don't make good grocery shoppers.

I have decided to shuffle some things around and push the program back for a day.

There is so much more to this than just lifting weights and doing push ups and reducing food portions and limiting what you eat. This is something that requires so much more of a commitment.

If I were fortunate enough to be so wealthy that I did not have to go to a job and work all day, this would be easier. If Ludwig had opposable thumbs and could do a few things around the house to help me out, that would be enough to make it easier. The last time I gave him a $20 and asked him to go to the store to pick up some skim milk, he came back with a gallon of whole milk and $15.49 worth of Snausages. Thus ended the days of Ludwig’s grocery shopping.

The whole point of pushing everything back a day was to get Yoga on Sunday. Yoga is a workout that is an hour and a half long. All others are between 45 minutes to an hours. Sunday is the only day that I know I will not have to get up early and go to work, so I wanted to have the ability to have a more flexible day for the Yoga workout. Flexible day…Yoga…I made a funny!

That leaves the remaining days of the week looking like this…

5am –
Wake up, force myself to get out of bed, stagger through the living room to open the front door to let Ludwig out, make my way into the kitchen where a pot of coffee should be waiting for me , if I remembered to program the coffee maker the previous night. I do not know if coffee is allowed as part of this program. I do not know if it is a carb or a fat or what, but unless Mr. Horton is ready for a fight, he better not touch my coffee.

5:15am-
Ludwig is back inside and breakfast is being made. This consists of poached egg whites and some type of breakfast meat made out of a turkey. It may be an egg white omelet, for the last few days, I have even been making egg white sandwiches on wheat bread. Let’s go back to the omelet for a second. One morning, I made myself an omelet that had spinach, feta cheese and diced chicken breast. A chicken omelet… I felt like the “Godfather” of poultry. It was like I put a hit out on the Cluck family and I whacked the bird and I whacked its unborn kid. That wasn’t breakfast; that was a vendetta.

5:45am-
Breakfast is over, dog is fed, kitchen is cleaned up, workout is beginning.

5:47am-
Tears are falling, hopes and dreams are shattering, I hear my bed calling out to me, reality is kicking my ass.

6:45am-
Shower. It is at this time, every day that I think about finding a medical supply store, where I can buy myself one of those stools that go into the bath tubs and shower stalls of nursing home bathrooms.

7:30am-
Out the door and driving to work. As if by magic, I am feeling so much better, now.

7:30pm
Home from work and trying to finish up a few things that I could not finish at the office.

8:15pm
Figure out what I have not eaten from my allotted cache of food for the day and create a feast for myself that usually consists of something like an 8oz serving of V-8, an individually wrapped, part skim, string cheese chunk and a 3oz portion of some type of low fat, grilled meat. I wonder what Paula Deen could do with that?

8:45pm
Dinner is over, tomorrow’s coffee is prepared, dog has been out, bed is calling me and I still have a supplemental workout that needs to be done.

10:00pm
Second workout is over, back to the shower, go to bed, lay there and cry myself to sleep. I hate my life!