So today was a defining moment in this weight loss journey. I looked down and what did I see? A chocolate stain on my shirt from a Dairy Queen malt – yes, I did see that. Don’t judge. We were on our way back from Lake Charles and there are two Dairy Queen’s en route. They don’t have those in these parts and I was stressed.
You got me off track. The important thing I saw was that my jeans are now too big. Only a little, but too big nonetheless. Big enough to need a smaller size even. No more muffin top in these. Now I have to hike them up when I’m walking because they sag like I’ve got urban street cred.
This may not seem like a big deal, but to me it’s huge! I’ve been going to stupid Weight Watcher meetings for a month and watching what I eat since mid-January. I really do try to get into the WW meetings, but it’s way more fun to internally crack jokes about it. But I do go and I pay attention for the most part. And as abhorrent as I think it is to reward adults with golden start stickers, I still get pissed when I don’t get one. Skinny bitch, give.me.my.sticker.
When I step on that scale every week my stomach feels like it’s going to empty itself in one way or another. (If only it would do that before the meeting, I’d have a bigger loss). I’ve consistently lost weight each week with one exception when I weighed in after a weekend of drunken debauchery and many Miller Lite’s. Even then I only gained 0.2 pounds. That’s practically nothing. Let me take off my watch and try again.
Hopefully the Easter candy (which will be at LEAST 50% off come Monday…) won’t tempt me too much and Monday evening I’ll show a loss as well. So far it’s been 14.6 pounds lost since mid-January and 9.4 since I started WW. It doesn’t show quite yet to the general public, but I know my pants are too big. And that’s enough for me. For right now at least.
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