Oh my aching head…

The great thing about dieting with a buddy is that you have someone to hold you back when you lose your willpower. Knowing that someone else is eating the same crappy diet food and feeling as hungry and unfulfilled as you do gives you that little bit of strength at the hardest moments. The terrible thing about dieting with a buddy is that when you and your buddy lose willpower at the same time the result tends to involve some sort of comfort food… and french fries. We had a bit of a breakdown today, and I’m not ashamed to say it was delicious. If I lie to myself a whole lot I can convince myself that I somehow managed to stay within my points for the day. I know I’ll regret the slip come Friday when I step on that evil little digital bastard, but damn those fries were good.

Today was evil scale mockery day and despite my weekend of reckless abandon, I still managed to lose an itty bitty bit of weight. It was just shy of half a pound (thank god for the digital scale), but at least it was going in the right direction so it made me feel a little bit better about my chances. Of course at this rate it will take me about a year to reach my goal, but I guess that’s kind of the better way to do it, right? It won’t exactly get me ready for bathing suit season (not that I wear bathing suits – ever – but still), but it might just get me back into most of my pants in the fall, which is pretty much why I started this whole thing in the first place.

Ok, so I massively fell of the wagon this weekend (the Weight Watchers wagon, of course), but in my own defense, I was away for a long weekend with family, and in our family, the food is central to any trip. I will admit that I am pretty much afraid to step on the scale, and will not do so until Friday, when I’ve (hopefully) been back on track for a few days. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that the damage will partially be undone by then, and I won’t get too depressed. I just couldn’t let myself miss out on enjoying our outings as much as everyone I was with, which is pretty much the reason I will never be truly happy with the way I look. It is so frustrating that something I love so much has to be the cause of such disappointment, but when given the choice between great food or a better body image, I will choose the food every time. If only I could learn to love working out as much as I love food, my life would be so much easier…

Another Friday, another report from the scale (evil little bastard). I lost less than a pound this week, but I guess a little progress is still progress, right? The good news is that I am battling hunger less and less every day, so at least I don’t feel as weak and tortured as I did in the beginning. I’m actually starting to see how I could do this for a while and maybe possibly lose enough over time to make a difference. I have no illusions of getting down to starlet size, I probably won’t even make it to TV fat, but I will be able to wear my pants from last year at some point and that’s what I care about. That, and having my scale tell me that I’m merely overweight, rather than obese (yes, the scale measures body fat and tells me that I am more bovine than human). Why the hell did I get that scale again?