Lost about three and a half this week, which gets me half way towards losing the seven pounds I'd regained during Holy Week and Pascha (Easter). I'm not convinced ANY of it is actually BODY FAT. But whatever. The lady at weight watchers never asks "And, so how were your bowel movements this week, dear?" Nope its always "Wow, this plan really works when you stick with it, doesn't it!"
Yuppers.
It may not sound like it very much, based on the level of snark that is likely leaking through here, but I really am pleased with the WW program. I like tracking. I like the accountability and I like that its very "real life" compatible. This morning I still had a slice of my daughter's chocolate birthday cake (we do birthday breakfasts because who wants cake after a full meal, right?) and counting the points and such. It's all good.
No, the snark is simply because I am TIRED OUT from a day of Hellmart, waiting forever at the beauty salon and going to COSTCO, and when I finally got home I was too dead to unload the groceries (thankfully I have minions who helped) and make dinner. So my husband got home from work and put away groceries, cleaned the kitchen which was magically gross again even though I'd done the breakfast/lunch dishes earlier in the day), and cooked supper.
And the snark is from vast amounts of fear and loathing circulating through my brain right now about the fact that summer is almost here and summer is the hardest season.
I fear summer. It means being fat in summer clothes. No, wait! I would love to be merely FAT in summer clothes. It means being OBESE in summer clothes and I just never ever know how to dress or what to wear and how to stay cool and be nice-looking and decent and modest. Gah. And then there's talk of people wanting to go swimming and that means Mom has to be out there by the pool, too and that means ME. in. a. swimsuit. Gah!
Every summer I daydream about NEXT summer when everything will be different. When I'll be thin.
I'm so sick of that stupid hope because it freaking NEVER HAPPENS. ...but this year I'm a good little weight watcher and I AM tracking and the program really really really does work cross my fingers click my heels together and spit over my left shoulder. Yeah. andIamwearingmypedometerandwalkingmorethanthefreakin'FRENCHeverydayand...and...and.
And I look in the mirror and it's fear of summer, it's self loathing and its sadness and depression. Even though I'm doing this weight loss thing, I have that tortoise charm on my bracelet to remind me that it's going to be a long haul.
I've got to figure this summer time thing out because I tend to GAIN and not lose weight when the weather heats up.
Yuppers.
It may not sound like it very much, based on the level of snark that is likely leaking through here, but I really am pleased with the WW program. I like tracking. I like the accountability and I like that its very "real life" compatible. This morning I still had a slice of my daughter's chocolate birthday cake (we do birthday breakfasts because who wants cake after a full meal, right?) and counting the points and such. It's all good.
No, the snark is simply because I am TIRED OUT from a day of Hellmart, waiting forever at the beauty salon and going to COSTCO, and when I finally got home I was too dead to unload the groceries (thankfully I have minions who helped) and make dinner. So my husband got home from work and put away groceries, cleaned the kitchen which was magically gross again even though I'd done the breakfast/lunch dishes earlier in the day), and cooked supper.
And the snark is from vast amounts of fear and loathing circulating through my brain right now about the fact that summer is almost here and summer is the hardest season.
I fear summer. It means being fat in summer clothes. No, wait! I would love to be merely FAT in summer clothes. It means being OBESE in summer clothes and I just never ever know how to dress or what to wear and how to stay cool and be nice-looking and decent and modest. Gah. And then there's talk of people wanting to go swimming and that means Mom has to be out there by the pool, too and that means ME. in. a. swimsuit. Gah!
Every summer I daydream about NEXT summer when everything will be different. When I'll be thin.
I'm so sick of that stupid hope because it freaking NEVER HAPPENS. ...but this year I'm a good little weight watcher and I AM tracking and the program really really really does work cross my fingers click my heels together and spit over my left shoulder. Yeah. andIamwearingmypedometerandwalkingmorethanthefreakin'FRENCHeverydayand...and...and.
And I look in the mirror and it's fear of summer, it's self loathing and its sadness and depression. Even though I'm doing this weight loss thing, I have that tortoise charm on my bracelet to remind me that it's going to be a long haul.
I've got to figure this summer time thing out because I tend to GAIN and not lose weight when the weather heats up.
Comments
"andIamwearingmypedometerandwalkingmorethan
thefreakin'FRENCHeverydayand...and...and."
Made me laugh. I enjoy when you let your great sense of humor show. And I think I'll go find my pedometer. "More than the freakin' FRENCH" may become my motivational motto this summer. Haha, and thanks. :-)