First off, I would like to wish everyone a belated Merry Christmas & Happy Chaunaka. Also a early Happy New Year.
So, I think I was very good the week before Christmas; worked out every day, ate good and everything, knowing that the Christmas Party was coming up. We had our tattoo shops Christmas Party on the 18th, and we went to go get Sushi. (In case you don't know, I LOVE SUSHI!!!!!)
I stuff my face until I feel like I'm gonna pop. Oh, man was it good, totally worth the uncomfortably full stomach. On the drive home, I started to feel nauseous. Ick. As we walk inside I immediately run to the bathroom and sit on the rim of the bath tub awaiting the inevitable. But when I sat down I started to feel much better. So, I get up and go lay down.
As I'm laying there, feeling like a gluten, I'm suddenly reminded of a scene from "Monty Python's Flying Circus."
Fair Warning, this video is pretty graphic, and disgusting. Viewer discretion advised, blah, blah, blah.
So I'm sorry if this made you sick to your stomach.... but this is pretty much how I felt, completely overindulged, full, and uncomfortable.
As I'm sure you can imagine, after this visual runs through my head, I start debating if I should just go try to puke (which will mean no more sushi for Stina ever again), or just try and digest this sushi awesomeness in my belly, so I can eat sushi another day.
Well, my stomach made my mind up for me. All of the sudden I have this dire urge to up chuck. I'll spare you the details, but suffice to say, I can never eat sushi ever again. Which breaks my heart. But, I'm totally getting a sushi tattoo with Rest in Pieces somewhere.
The husband said I got my abb workout in at least. Always look on the bright side of life, right!?
I felt sick, but not puking sick after a little sleep, and decide I'm not going out in public, let alone to the gym for several days.
The next night my daughter starts not feeling good. Like clockwork, she had the same problem I did the night before. So we curled up and watched, "The Nutcracker ballet." Very Christmasy.
At this rate, I just decide that it's so close to Christmas. I'm not going to go into the gym, and I'm going to allow myself to have a break. But after Christmas; it's on like Donkey Kong.
I must say it was awesome! We had a great Christmas ^u^ Filled with lots of cookies, candies, and no regrets!
My sister-in-law came to town and decided to have all the girls come over for a sleep over last night. THANK YOU!!!!! Because of this, the husband decides he wants to work out with me. And let me tell you, I will never do that again. Geez. He was like a drill Sargent with ADD. He had no plan what so ever. "Do this machine, then this, now do that, go do this one. O yeah, I forgot about that one." I wanted to tell him what my he tells me when I get distracted..... "Oh, look at da Kitty." He was completely off track, no sense of direction, just having me do whatever comes to his mind. I felt like a chicken with my head cut off.
Then, when I started using the machine I already knew how to use, he comes over and looks at me without any emotion in his face and tells me, rather sternly, "Do 10-15." Then promptly walks off.
WTF! I'm having a hard time doing 7 in a set let alone 10-15.
I occasionally have trouble with anxiety; and when I feel overwhelmed I shut down, and for some reason this just pushed me over the edge. So I said, "F*ck it. I'm done."
I finish what I was doing. Walk back over to where he was doing his lifting, make him stop, and told him, like kid on the playground,"You're mean and I want to work out with Mike. I don't want to play with you anymore."
Does this make me a bad wife....? I think not. I love my husband, but if this is going to work; and I'm going to make Operation Skinny Bitch successful, I'm going to have to kick him to the curb, (at least when the gym is concerned.)
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