Weight

I seem to have leveled out at about 183. Which is about 11 pounds over a weight that I'm comfortable with. I know that in the past I've leveled out at around 185 and it usually takes some exceptionally bad eating to push it over that or some hard core exercises to drop it. I'm still out walking a few times a week and I am fairly conscientious about the quality of what I eat. However, I haven't been gauging the quantity at all, and my work outs are not 5 days a week and are usually more about getting air than pushing myself past my limits.
I find this whole thing unfortunate.

I see myself in the mirror and I'm a bit disgusted. (you see, unlike all those news articles or forum posts where people say that overweight people see themselves as thinner than they are, I do not suffer from that affliction. I see every roll of fat, every pimple, every spot, ever celulite dimple in HD clarity). At my lowest weight, 163, I was working out for an hour or two (cardio and weights) 6 days a week and watching what I ate. I was still overweight.

What is it worth? I gain no attention either way; it doesn't benefit me.
If I have no children and no loving husband why live a long healthy life? I'd rather die in a hospital a few years after my parents pass than alone in a nursing facility after decades of being alone.

Do it for yourself? For what? So I can get a better job? Oh, I was in pretty good shape (working out 5 days a week for an hour or more, running 3.5 miles) during my first few interviews, and I'd only been out of work for a month or two. Did it help? Nope!

Do it so I'll feel better? Uh, not really. Every time I loose weight I become obsessed with my body and food. It's like loosing weight is an active every hour of every day admitance that I find myself unacceptable and it takes a massive toll on my emotional strength and stability. My body may feel better, but I cry at the drop of a pin.

No, we work out for other people. Without other people, it's a wasted effort, a sweeping of the ocean.

Well, I have the flu

That's right, four hours of sleep last night and a long day later I have a temperature of 100F, nausea, a headache, and sore skin. And this while my brother is recovering from surgery and I'm supposed to be looking out for him. Lucky me (but not really). Why does illness have such poor timing?

Guess I won't be excercising for the next couple days.

On a lighter note, I went to end my membership to Urban Active (a second time, in all the pre-surgery crazyness I lost the info she they handed me the first time). This time I went to the offices and when I told them I had no job and they would soon be charging an empty bank account they were suprisingly willing to end my membership with only minimal cancelation fees. I was expecting them to charge an extra month and a cancelation fee. Apparently I can also continue to go through October. Sweet.

Salt and Me

Salt is clearly my nemisis. I need to eat less of it. A lot less. Blaaahhhh. Boo, salt, why do you taste so delicious?
Salt may actually account for weight gain as much as sugar, as more often obesity is seen as long term inflamation. ( I got that from some article I read ages ago)