gotta get on the scale
I’ve been all over the place for the last few weeks. First off, I’ve maintained my weight for about six weeks — too bad I’m not at my goal weight! I gallavanted around Scotland and London for a week with my bff who flew in. Lots of food consumed. Equal amounts of alcohol consumed. Needless to say I gained 3.5 pounds, which broke my sequence of maintaining each week.
Tonight is weigh-in and I couldn’t be less excited about it. But this is exactly what I predicted would happen (I know myself so well!). I have thought about not going tonight, but NO. That’s where I go wrong every single time. I can’t stop going. Because each Wednesday morning I wake up and I feel a little bit more like I have a fresh week ahead of me. And even if I screw up a bit, I still think I’m doing more good than harm.
And knowing I have to get on that blasted scale each Tuesday night is a GOOD thing! Even if I hate when the WW lady looks at me, tells me I’ve gained, asks me if I was expecting it, etc.
I’m looking forward to tomorrow morning and a week of starting over.
