I got side tracked for a couple of days. Wed afternoon my sister picked me up. She wanted me to stay at her house for 3 or 4 days to help her clean. Her boyfriend was wanting to move in. Cleaning up her kitchen and living room was like playing hide and seek with junk food. Bags of chips were uncovered near her computer desk, on the couch under coats, by the recliner. She had a huge variety of little debbie cakes, along with other cookies laying around the kitchen. Needless to say I sampled a lot. I don't keep cookies and chips at my house because I know I would finish a bag a day. Well I take that back. There are chips in this house. My roomie has flamin hot Cheetos, which I absolutely will not touch. I don't like those even a little.
Everything I ate at my sisters Wed, I wrote down in my food journal. It wasn't that bad. I checked in at a little over 1400 for the day. Thursday I didn't write anything down. Late Thursday night I went back home. Friday I got up and ate a big bowl of cocoa pebbles for breakfast. I went running around town. I stopped and ate at Wendy's. I had 2 double stacks and a large Coke Zero. I rarely, if ever eat fries at fast food places. I also had a small cheese pizza and a large glass of chocolate milk later that night.
I've already paid the price for detouring from my plan. I woke up in the middle of the night with heartburn.
I went to the store yesterday and loaded up on apples, carrots, light wheat bread, 1% milk, boneless skinless chicken tenders, and diet pepsi. Today I am on plan.
In the middle of writing this, there was a knock on the door. It was my mail carrier. I had to sign for a certified letter. I wondered who was sending me a certified letter. The letter was from the vets office I took my animals to before I moved last year. I thought maybe I owed them money or since I hadn't been there in over a year they were going to shred my files or something. The letter said they had a cat with a rabies tag number matching a cat I had taken there in the past. I bawled. I gave up hope a long time ago that I'd ever see her again. I thought she was dead.
After my husband moved out last year I tried to keep the house, but it wasn't working. My sisters kept my boxer Rock. One of my cats went to another home. I kept my Pollie with me. I moved in with an elderly woman in early Nov. Her sons wanted someone with her all the time. Pollie wasn't allowed in the house, but I brought her in at night anyway. I wasn't about to let my baby stay outside all night long in the cold. The Friday before Christmas I let her out in the morning and I never saw her again. I hoped someone saw her and picked her up thinking she was a stray. I was afraid she'd been hit by a car or eaten by a wild animal. I was out in the country. And now here it is almost a year later and my little Pollie is sitting at my old vets office waiting for me to bring her home again. I have so many questions. Few of which, I know, will be answered. Now I just have to be patient and wait, the vets office won't be open until Monday. Patience is never easy for me especially when it's something like this.