Not a hangover exactly, but...

311 days

282.0 pounds

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Objectives

• Week's End: 278.0 (pounds left: 4.0)
• Year's End: 193.5 (pounds left: 88.5)

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...but a nasty backache at 3:30am

It could have been worse, but either way, chips, alcohol, bread (on the burger and slider) undo a lot of good, hard work. And tonight we have a huge black tie wedding, where there will be an hour of cocktails, hors d'oeuvres and idle chatter before we sit down to get completely stuffed. I could theoretically end up undoing both this week and the weeks leading up to it.

Brunch

I didn't actually weigh in until after 10:00am, so the number above is suspect; and in view of the upcoming binge later today, I decided to combine breakfast and lunch into a single event. I had the last leftover piece of Michelle's french toast casserole, with butter and syrup to start and finished with a toasted leftover piece of bread Robin got with her dinner from Pasta-Eria last night. On that went the remaining sliver of vegetable cream cheese on one side and Nutella on the other. All washed down with Gjuice for my vitamins and medication, and coffee to take down to work.

Dinner

Hard to recap. We went to a wedding. We drank like fish. Four, maybe five double tequilas. The cocktail hour was a stuff-a-thon, though I tried to have a semblance of self-control. I had one soft taco and one quesadilla, a plate of barbequed meat and fish including lamb chop, chicken, beef, salmon; back inside there was shrimp, oysters, cheese, salami, Italian sausages, a plate of fruit, coconut chicken and shrimp, scallops wrapped in bacon (I think I had six of those), chicken saté (chicken-on-a-sticken)...I don't remember much more. Then there was dinner. A nice salad and a piece of Chilean sea bass. Very good. A roll with butter. Dessert—here's where I actually controlled myself and only had a single chocolate mousse parfait, a little chocolate cup with liqueur of some sort inside and finally, a hand-rolled cigar. Never got to taste the wedding cake. It was gone before I got back from my cigar break.

Suffice it to say, not a chance of making the objective for the week.