Monday regrets…

It’s so ridiculously absurd that it’s almost funny.  In fact if it wasn’t about me, I’d probably find it funny.

I wonder if I’ll ever wake up again on a Monday morning and not totally and completely regret my weekend. 

I’m thinking not.

I’m caught in a veritable Groundhog Week similar to the terrible Bill Murray movie.

Yes, it’s wake up Monday morning feeling horrible about my weekend eating.  Vow to do better.  Be completely on plan Monday and slide a little bit every day until Friday.  When I then get the Friday “fuck its” and begin cramming food in my mouth the entire goddamn weekend.

Go to bed on Sunday night feeling like a fat miserable loser.  Wake up Monday morning with regrets and staring at my naked self in the mirror and seeing how fat I am and vow to do better.

LATHER.

RINSE.

REPEAT.

Lots of people use a weekend day for a cheat day.  And that would probably work for me if I could contain it to on day and not just go crazy.  But I’m not succeeding in that.

The only way to stop having regrets is to stop fucking up.  It’s that simple and that hard.