It's been a couple of weeks now since I've gone back to counting points Weight Watchers style in an attempt to lose eight pounds before classes start back up at the end of August. Why the number eight? Because that will bring me back to what Weight Watchers deems the maximum recommended weight for someone my age and height. Also because I had put back on more than half of the twenty pounds I lost when I was following the program and going through some serious life crises. It's much easier to lose weight when the situation is dire. It's a reliable appetite depressant. But get all happy and content in a relationship and the general direction that life seems to be heading in and I can pack the pounds on in no time at all.
I want my clothes to fit well and I don't want to stand in front of the classroom and turn to write on the board feeling self conscious about the size and shape of my ass, so I figured eight pounds in six weeks is a very realistic goal. It is. I've already taken off three pounds in two weeks. Lovely, right? Sort of, except for the fact that I feel grumpy as hell half the time because I want to eat but I don't want to blow my points balance. In a way I think it's stupid because who really notices six or eight pounds other than me? Then again, I'm doing it for myself anyway so who cares who else notices? I'm sure I have more important things to concern myself with, but sometimes I get this way.