I may steal a scale

Last night, I woke up in a cold terror. I had a dream that I weighed 193 pounds. Don't ask where I got this random number from--it was a dream. I nearly woke Nathan up to comfort me in my distress, but then I remembered that I woke him up a few hours earlier because Leo licked my face and I was breaking out in an allergic reaction.

Fun times.

(And yes, it is ironic that I am slightly allergic to cats and have two of them.)

So now I'm in freak-out mode. Is it possible that I weigh over 190 pounds, that I have gained 40 pounds in six months? That would be a lot for me, but believe it or not, it's not my record. Then again, don't you think someone would tell me if I gained that much weight in a short amount of time?

I don't know. My size 10 jeans still fit--albeit tightly. And all of my dresses fit.

On the other hand, I can't even squeeze my size 8 jeans over my hips.

It was weird. In my dream, I kept searching for my old-non-digital scale because it's nicer (i.e. 5 pounds lighter). But all I could find was my old electronic scale with its flashing red number, saying I was 193.

I need to weigh myself. Because if I am 193 (hey, I could be a psychic), I need to do something to change that. But we don't have a scale (Nathan doesn't want one in the house), so I may be reduced to sneaking into a doctor's office and using their scale. Do you think the Syracuse University Health Center would weigh me for free?

As you can probably tell, Intuitive Eating has fallen to the wayside this week. I'm stressed with work. The kitchen is a wreck. Nathan and I wake up so early to get to work that its hard to always have enough energy to cook dinner, much less make healthy breakfasts and lunches.

Last night's dinner, for instance was a baguette, cheese and wine. Delicious, yes, but hardly nutritious.

And now I'm gulping 24 ounces of super sweet coffee, trying to buck up for a full day of writing, interviews, and photo shoots. And then we'll go home and hopefully decide to tackle the massive pile of dishes in the sink, pay bills, and cook a healthy dinner of chicken tacos (which we've been planning since Tuesday).

But let's be real. We might do what we've been doing all week. Buy a bottle of wine and order take-out.

Let's just say, I can't wait for the weekend.