Well this weekend is certainly about picking yourself up when you fall down [hard off the wagon] and just keep going. Drinking heavily is, as we know, not conducive to weight loss and overall health. I have a tendency to kinda just keep going when I imbibe, which is why for about a month I've been having the dear fiancee pour for me - and cut me off. I haven't been drinking or thinking too much about it since I asked him to do this for me. However, Friday night was a bit of an exception.
My fiancee is one of the many that needed to move back in with his mother because of living costs v employment rate and pay in our part of the US. This has led, naturally, to many awkward and frustrating times. This past Friday night was intended to be a bit of alone time for the two of us, something we do't get much of. And while sometimes our alone time consists of nothing more than talking without interference, this night was definitely going to be a night of private time. This was not to be, as the minute he got out of the shower his mother came home early, and she began to say something as he hurried to his bedroom and he responded he needed to get changed and would be out in a minute. We were both frustrated, and decided it wasn't completely lost.  When it turned out his mother was not trying to talk to us through the door, but in fact talking to his younger brother and wife, I was a little more than mortified. I was also stuck in the bedroom, since my clothes were still with the rest of my things.  The fiancee obliged me by fetching my overnight bag, but I could feel my face burning as I left the room to go be sociable. I do not blush often, but I knew I was now. To give myself a moment to compose myself, I headed into the kitchen to make myself a drink.
For me, it seems, I should not drink on  an empty stomach, because I will joyfully feed myself on alcohol rather than food. And I did just that until his mother asked me an hour and a half later what we had decided to do for dinner. She informed me there was nothing to cook in the kitchen, which was not a surprise as she buys each meal makings individually. She opted for pizza for the 6 of us, which I ate more of what was delivered then was healthy.
The next day I paid for it, with a sensitive stomach and frequent trips to the bathroom to contemplate my naval.
This was coupled with the fact that plans changed for our weekend enough to mess with my schedule of getting in exercise, and made me feel as though I had failed. But it is Monday, and time to keep pressing forward.