I got my gold star, and I was proud of it! For the first time in my life I got back on the plan after falling off. The pizza didn't do me in; I didn't throw my hands in the air and say "well, you've already blown it so you might as well give in to that craving".
I now officially love Weight Watchers and myself for being faithful to each other. They said if I went to meetings and tracked my points I would lose weight, and they were right. They said there would be bumps in the road but that I should go to meetings and weigh-in anyway and track all of the points even the bad ones, and they were right. Halllelujah!
I am feeling hopeful. Fifty pounds is almost half gone; I can see the crest of the hill and I know what it takes to get there. I may actually have time to go up and over another hill before 50 strikes and take even more off.
I am looking at clothes again, and shoes, and haircuts. I imagine myself in a pair of Louboutin patent peep-toe pumps, with a pencil skirt and a gorgeous swingy camel hair coat
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