Last night, I made a promise to myself to be up by 9 this morning. I had made plans with my best friend for the morning to exercise and work on her wedding plans. I made plans with my mom for the afternoon to join a weight loss group.

Somedays, nothing seems to go right. A person just hopes it isn't on day 4 of their weight loss journey. Often enough, a bad day really begins the night before.

I called Larry on his way home from work at 10:30. He wanted cheese tortellini and bread for dinner. I LOVE cheese. It's almost unnatural how much we both love cheese. Everything we eat, we smother it in cheese. Baked Potatoes? Smothered in cheese. Bread? Smothered in cheese. Even popcorn? Covered in parmasean cheese. I'm even lactose intolerant. Dairy makes me ill. I still LOVE cheese.

I recently read an article about cheese addiction. Cheese, according to the article, is full of queso-morphine. Queso-morphine acts just how you would expect morphine to affect one's body and brain. It releases the same endorphines and you are hooked. Once you have a bite, you just want to feel that same high. Because of that article and the realization of how ridiculous it is that I eat something every chance I can that makes me feel terrible, I've tried to cut dairy completely out of my diet. So this dinner was going to be trying.

When I arrived at the grocery store, I headed straight for the tortellini. Convienently, our usual partner for the tortellini, frozen garlic bread is located in the very next door. I quickly snatched up a loaf. As swiftly as I grabbed it, I put it right back. I knew if I took that bread home, I would eat half of that loaf, covered in cheese. I decided to get Larry a loaf of fresh French bread from the deli. I'm not a fan and knew I wouldn't be tempted to eat it.

I took home groceries and began to cook. I realized I needed to eat something. I only had Subway and two bananas that day. I portioned out one cup of tortellini and half a cup of sauce with chicken breast chunks. It was incredibly satisfying for only 330 calories. I still ate cheese, but in small proportions. I feel good about it.

After dinner was done, I can't explain why I didn't go to sleep. I kept telling myself, one more episode of biggest loser and I'm going to sleep. But episode after episode I needed to know what happens next. I sat in that chair until 3 in the morning. I occasionally did some exercise with the kettle ball and resistance band, but it isn't a good excuse.

I finally showered and went to bed, expecting Larry to be in any minute. I layed there for 45 minutes getting angry at him before I fell asleep. He eventually came to bed around 4:30, only to wake me up. I was wide awake and pissed off that I was awake. I'm not sure what time I slipped away into an angry, exhausted slumber. I do know what time I woke up. 1:17 the next afternoon.

When I get up and look at my phone I see the missed calls and texts from my mom and best friend. For years I was unreliable. Years. I hated having that reputation. I worked really hard to stick to my word or not make plans at all. Mostly, I made no plans at all. Which easily could relate to my weight issues as well.

So Larry, who leaves for work at 1:50, wakes up at 1:30 and decides he isn't feeling good enough to go to work. There goes any chance for my routine to stay intact. I've never let another person affect my daily routine as much as I let him.

So I'm sitting at the computer, angry for breaking a promise to myself, my best friend, and my mom. Where do I go from here? How can I salvage my day? I want to go get taco bell. A mountain dew and some nachos and cheese always cheers me up. But I don't. I call my mom and make some new plans. We both need to go to the post office and she needs help unloading her van at the auction hosue. Sounded like enough to pick me up from this potential funk.

We grab a salad at Wendy's on our way out of town. Chicken BLT cobb salad with Ranch dressing, 650 calories, and an ice water. Much better than the Taco Bell that was calling my name.

After spending a couple hours working at the auction house, we head back to town. We make plans to go to the YMCA that evening for water aerobics. The problem with that is, a year ago Larry and I signed up for a YMCA membership and never went. EVER. Before Larry and I started dating, I never missed a workout and now I haven't been back. So I call the YMCA and the kid working wasn't sure the status of my account. My mom suggested I go and just pay the guest fee, but I have ridiculous anxiety and was petrified of the thought of the kid realizing I had called him about my account and denying me access to water aerobics. How humiliating would that be? So I bailed on my mom. Again.

Larry moans from the bedroom that he is hungry. He wants Mcdonalds. Before I rush out to get his dinner, I research MY options. I decide that despite Larry's requested food has 1180 calories, I'm going to opt for A side salad, apple slices and a fruit and yougurt parfait. Only 210 calories, right? There is some truth to that. If you don't put dressing on the salad. So add another 170 calories for the dressing and really I'm getting 380. The dressing almost doubles my calories! I need to figure out how to replace dressing for something better.

So here I sit. Writing my day. I feel like I've done nothing but disappoint myself and those who matter most. But I still watched my calories and moved a little more than I was before this journey. I'm still committed. Still living the motto of personal responsiblity.

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