4.2 Pounds

So, today, I got off my ass and went in for my weight in. As I approached the counter I explained to the attendant that I had been helping my daughter with her prom dress, and that I had a few too many McDonald days, which is the reason that I've probably pushed the scale in the wrong direction.
She looked me in my eyes, and I looked into hers. She's an older blond doll with brown eyes, flecked with hazel. Had she said the wrong thing, I was perfectly prepared to punch her, and patiently wait to be hauled off to jail by the Troy Police.
"4.2 pounds!" Smile.
OMG! Who's weight is that? My friends, I could not believe it. After all the bad crap that I've been doing to myself (double cheeseburger, french fries, and CHEESE), I have somehow not blown up into an epic proportion!

Whew!

I quickly replied, "Well, not that many McDonald days..."
I was so afraid that I prolonged and procrastinated for upwards of two weeks. WTH? I've got to get a handle on my fear of failure.
After coming down from my elation, I had to take a long hard look at the reason that I was afraid to step back on the scale.
I think we are so distracted by defeating our demons, that we forget to allow ourselves momentary set backs.
The truth of the matter is, if we don't allow ourselves the opportunity to have a setback, then we are defeated before we caneven begin.

Well, I'm off to the grocery store to buy myself some healthy snacks... and a couple of not so healthy ones also!

Till next time, fight the good fight my dear Weight Watchers!