After bitching about Weight Watchers last week, I feel the need not to recant but to temper my ranting just a little bit.
Today was weigh in day and while the thought of seeing the scales woke me up in a cold sweat this morning at 6:02, the big reveal showed that I have somehow rid myself of 7.2 pounds.
Do I believe it's really gone? No. It's out there hovering in the air like one of those tiny flies that you can never swat even though it keeps buzzing your face while you try to sleep. My fat likes me too much to leave for good. We've been together too long for it to just take off and leave.
So I'm not celebrating yet, but I AM sticking to the points system like grits on a redneck.
I had a conflicting meeting this morning with my WW weigh-in/meeting, so I darted in and out of it. The Mistress of Perk heard my number and this is the support she gave: "Don't expect that to continue."
She'd already given the warnings about plateauing on weight loss. I'd listened. I even followed the directions on calculating points and the extras for activity. I set my expectations really low.
I know it's going to get harder. And I know she was just trying to help. Hell, I don't even believe the scales. But a little: "You go girl" might have been better received.
Earlier in the week, I was describing my nascent WW experience to Jeff and Alison said, "What's perky" mean anyway? How can you be too perky?"
Cringing that I'd been less than nice about someone in front of Ali, I said, "It means too happy. You know, someone who's too cheerful and tries to push you into being too happy with them."
"Did you say too heavy?" she asked.
I sighed. "HAPPY. I said HAPPY."
So I remain too heavy but happy that this WW thing might not actually be a scam....Light some candles for me.... it's the start of another week and my great success on the scales means I lost a whole point of food I could have otherwise eaten!
No good deed...