226

I was afraid I was going to end this week still at 228. Tuesday was Weasel's birthday party at Finn MacCool's, an Irish pub near here. And at things like birthdays, there's no such thing as "diet". Between the appetizer platter, bangers and champ, Bailey's Irish Creme cheesecake, and a few pints of Guinness, I knew I was doing damage.


Fortunately, I resolved to do penance by going to the gym an extra time this week and I kept my eating in line the rest of the week. When I went out to the Vogue, I just had Michelob Ultra Amber. Also, even though I seemed to go "hog wild" at Finn's, I wasn't gorged like I was when I met my friend Marik at a steak house and almost ate my self sick.

Pretty soon I'm going to need to do some shopping. My work pants are getting too loose.

:)