First stop is my weight watchers meeting. I tracked all week and am expecting it to show when I weigh in this morning. It doesn’t. I am exactly the same as I was two weeks ago: 121.6. I like seeing everyone, but I think my interest in the meetings is beginning to wane. I am committed to staying thin, but not so committed to going each week to the meetings, or even, to tracking each week. My newer smaller clothes are my best insurance of staying thin.
I run a few more errands, including a teeth cleaning at the most expensive dentist in town, I’m sure. I’m home by two.
Alexander is sleeping at his grandparents’ tonight so I contemplate my options. I could go to a free BAFTA screening of The Rite, but although the movie stars Anthony Hopkins, I’m not too excited about the devilish plot. I find two plays I can go to, each costing only $4, The first, Blood From A Stone, stars Ethan Hawke, is three hours long, and as I’m told by Penny, is “relentlessly depressing.” I decide I’m not up for a 3-hour play. The other $4 play that is available tonight is a light comedy, The Screenwriter, and is performing at an Eastside theater. But I’m not sure I want to trek outside again, especially if so much snow is predicted.
In the end, I stay in, eat my homemade leftover weight watcher-friendly chicken parmigiana that I made last night, read some of Damage by John Lescroart, and watch DVR’ed TV. But I love knowing that a world of options is available just outside; all I have to do is open my door.
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