Victory is Mine…It’s a Great Morning Victory is Mine!

Any West Wing fans out there?
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I’ve been trying for weeks to manage some decent, edible gluten free baking. My husband is one of those strange people who have endless willpower to give stuff up if he needs to (drives me batty!) and I feel bad when he eats the same thing day in and day out for breakfast. This is the third round of biscuits that I have tried and boy do I have to give a shout out to eat at joe’s.

They were great biscuits, made up quick and the whole family gobbled them down. I was virtuous and only had one along with my protein shake the voodoo doctors are recommending.

I’m not sure I’ve mentioned my Voodoo doctors here. I have been struggling to lose weight ever since I was put on steroids a few years ago. Nothing seems to work and I have tried everything from Weight Watchers to South Beach. Atkins didn’t go over well since I don’t really like cheese that much, and Low GI foods work until the sweet cravings hit. My well respected nutritionists advice was to eat less and less until I was trying to figure out how to manage a workout routine on 1400 calories a day. Fast forward a few months and a friend recommends that I get my base metabolic rate tested to see how many calories I’m burning on an average day. Turns out that magic number is 1730 calories so eating anything less than that and I should be able to lay in bed all day and lose weight…and that’s so not happening! I got my metabolism tested at an alternative pharmacy and the lady who tested it for me is a naturopath who for a measly $20 per visit can work with people to develop natural remedies to their problems (and that’s right up my ally!).

I came home from a 2 hour consultation, several tests and some great recommendations to tell dear old hubby all about it. I could see the smirk before I even got to the cool test where I put my hand on a silver shaped disc and it analyzed my skin to see what I was nutritionally deficient in. Throw in there that they want me to drink special oxygenated water and I realized I had some convincing to do. It was about that point that he began calling them my Voodoo doctors and like all bad nick names it stuck like Elmer’s glue.

On a randomly related note, if you like to read and like funny, witty, somewhat snarky books I’m currently laughing my tail off at Jen Lancaster’s Such a Pretty Fat. 🙂

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