So last night in the midst of my customarily monstrous insomnia, I cooked up two batches of stuff to have on salads- one chicken, one tofu.  I am in the process of a refrigerator re-stocking that will aid the diet process.  I still need to cook edamame for easy snacking and chop vegetables for even-easier salads and stir fries, but I’m happy to actually have my fridge stocked and ready for action- not full of leftovers and takeout and general nastiness.   I actually had a wonderful day today- on track with the diet, got a lot of sun and exercise, had dinner with the girls and a long phone conversation with my far-flung best friend, did some reading.  Amazing- the warm weather really lifts everyones spirit; the whole town felt perked up, energized, positive.  In the three months of nice(ish) weather we get per year (before the whole Northwest turns to a large, amorphous, drizzly, grey mass for the remaining nine months), the area between Vancouver B.C. and San Francisco gets a collectively stunned smile on it’s face.  Ah, the beginning of summer!   Food breakdown: breakfast was two eggs, rye toast, a tomato and 3 slices turkey bacon.  Lunch was a small salad with romaine, tofu, seaweed, radishes, sprouts, tomatoes, asian vinaigrette.  Dinner was a large salad with chicken, tomatoes, chickpeas, olives, radishes, feta.  I rode the stationary bike for 40 minutes, plus weights etc., cleaned the house vigorously (mopped to a Motown soundtrack, sweated up a storm- the one drawback of the summer around these parts is that my house gets hot as hells fire), walked twice with the dogs.  I have a complicated relationship with the summer months, as do most larger ladies.  It’s my favorite time of year and I love to swim and be in the sunshine, but these activities often include revealing more of my chunkiness then I am usually comfortable with.  Hopefully, by next summer, most of the anxiety that comes along with bathing suit weather will have disappeared like the 80 pounds I plan to lose by then.  But I’m NOT going to do the thing where I decide to forsake activities I truly enjoy because I’m worried people will judge my blubbery thighs and back fat.  I mean, no miniskirts or non-bermuda shorts (honestly, let’s not go crazy here) but I’m going to go swimming and wear tank tops and generally behave like a girl who is not consumed by morbid shame.  Fuck morbid shame, fuck not swimming in the summer and fuck wearing smothering little cardigans with everything.  I’m just going to persevere with the diet and try not to get demoralized by the absence of my bikini body and the seeming proliferation of everyone else’s.