A for effort, C for result (lyn)

This week I ate out twice:  dinner at Shari’s on Friday, and a holiday party on Sunday.  Even so, I thought I’d done a good job of staying on program.  I ate within my 18 allotted points.  I tracked everything that went into my mouth. I made, and ate, the zero point vegetable soup.  I calculated higher than needed when I didn’t know the point value of a piece of food.  I even had leftover bonus points at the end of the week.  And, I felt skinnier.  Even squeezed into, and bought, a size 6 GAP jean (they must run big) to replace the jeans I was wearing and that were literally falling off my hips.

I get to Weight Watchers this morning optimistic.  I am now picky about scales, and always step on Robin’s scale.  She smiles, as she always does, and proudly says, “Good for you.  You’ve lost again. Point two pounds.”  I think I’ve heard wrong.  “Point two?”  “Yes,” she responds, with the same level of exuberance she has shown when I’ve lost one point eight pounds.  I almost feel like crying.  I know it’s stupid, but I feel so deflated.  Before I have time to think about point two for very long, Robin tells me to remember how good I look, how far I’ve come, and on and on.  I am barely listening.  I know she is right, but still.  I look forward to my Wednesday report cards, and like in school so many years ago, I still want that A.