The Bug is All About the Number (and talking about herself in the 3rd person)

My crazy behavior has begun again (um, this is different crazy behavior sweetie). This morning in the shower I was debating whether or not to shave my legs. Would that small amount of hair make a difference? I decided that grooming is good whatever the result (right).

On the way to work I did not eat my breakfast, and only took small sips of water. I decided that not only did my jeans not feel looser – they feel tighter than they did last week (yes I wore the same jeans – to be consistent!).

I walked into A’s office with trepidation & started disrobing. Off went the boots, the earrings, the lanyard, the jacket. And with one eye shut I stepped on the scale. I may have fleetingly thought about lying to you guys if I didn’t like the number. Fleetingly. Really.

I’m three pounds down (if I were lying it would be more like 1 pound – no one who knows me would believe THREE).

I’ve been thinking about why the number means so much to me. Why I compulsively need to step on the scale at least once a day. Why I have my weigh in rituals & why I feel cheated when I’m unable to do any of the rituals.

I’m a Weight Watchers warrior, a veteran. And I know my body. In order to live a normal life while also trying to be healthy I typically lose less than a pound a week. Sure those ounces add up. And after 160 of them are gone I can actually tell in my clothes. But for me those 10 pounds might take three or more months. That’s a long time to keep doing what you’re doing without some tangible result. If I didn’t record those ounces on a weekly basis I would just give up on week two, convinced that nothing was happening.

I want to be healthy & eat good things for my body. But right now, with 60 pounds to lose & arthritis in my hip, my priority is to lose weight. It’s gonna be a long slow haul people – I hope you’re prepared to hear my weigh in ritual story every week. And I promise to not lie. If I gain, I’ll tell you. If I lose .2 (a regular happening in the past), I’ll tell you. If I lose three pounds again, I’ll faint first, then I’ll tell you!

Note: I won’t be in the office next week so I won’t be weighing in. Sure my Dad has a scale. But am I making myself crazy by weighing in the day after Thanksgiving? Not a chance!