If I get another job, I might have to move again, to another strange city far from home. Even if I move down to Berkeley or somewhere closer to San Francisco, I will have to balance higher rent and a 20-mile commute, plus bridge toll, on a $14 an hour job. I don’t know if I can do that.

But isn’t it about time I start fighting my way toward the center?

I guess I just can’t get over the fact that, once I lose this weight, I’ll have to start over with something else.

Is that the reason I keep tripping up? Honestly, I don’t really think so. But every other reason I think of — an inability to delay gratification, the idea that I am owed some sort of prize for what I have done so far, a basic hunger for salted meats — leads back to the idea of fearing success. I am very close to complete success. So what is blocking me from taking care of that last mile?

That said, I should let you know that the last three days have gone very well. Though I would say I ate about 2,000 calories on Tuesday, I am cool with the distribution and choices I made.

Mentally, I am right where I should be: Looking forward to knocking off these last few pounds, wondering how long it will take to see a real difference in myself. I am wondering when I will move from XXL shirts to XL shirts, though the size 44 pants I used to wear are entirely too big now, as are the size 42 pants I bought to replace them. I bought a pair of shorts on Sunday, size 40, which isn’t exactly snug. The size 38 shorts I tried on were just a bit too snug. I am wearing shirts that I never could wear before, though they all seem a bit too short.

These things are encouraging and they make me wonder how much lower I can go.

I think I’ll have to just buck up for the next couple of weeks and make this happen. I’ll have to make smart decisions, like going to the gym before work. And I’ll have to realize when I am close to sabotaging the goals I have been working toward for the last two years.