I weighed in this morning, and it was a monumental event. 181. That's right everyone, I'm down nearly 50 pounds, but since last time I dieted I was down 68, 50 doesn't seem like a huge deal. But the important part is that even though I lost a bunch of weight before, I stopped when I hit 183. I'm now the lightest and thinnest I've been since starving myself almost to death in Chicago. My original goal was to hit 180, but since I'm only a pound away and still have a bit of that 'ole spare tire, I've updated my goal to 175. 6 pounds will probably take me more than a month, but hopefully that'll rid me of these silly love handles that have haunted me since I was disturbingly skinny in college.
Not much else to report, I'm afraid. I thought this heat wave was over, and I thought my self-imposed bedroom/AC shut-ins were over, but alas, they're not. At least I have my window unit to save me from dying of heat stroke.