Week One Is Currently Sucking

I took the weekend off—caught up on all the things I’ve been needing to do at home that were ignored while I was working so much overtime. At least, that’s what I’d like to tell myself. I really didn’t get much of anything done, other than going to my first Weight Watchers meeting.

Yup. That’s right—Weight Watchers. I’ve been meaning to lose the extra hundred or so pounds that have been following me around the last several years, and I finally decided it’s time. Not that I’m happy about it. Nope, you won’t find me jumping up and down at Weight Watcher’s meetings with pom-poms. I’m a Weight Watchers member, and I’m pissed about it.

I’ve known for a while that I needed to lose some weight. It’s not like it’s a surprise to me. I was just hoping that I would magically do so, all while continuing to eat exactly what I want to eat, whenever I wanted. Unfortunately, the 27-year-old body I currently inhabit doesn’t allow for such things. And besides, I managed to find a husband—what good will it be if we both keel over from hear-attacks in 10 or 15 years.

My family history doesn’t bode well for me, either. You name it—we’ve got it—everything from high blood pressure and high cholesterol to heart attacks, diabetes, cancer, and strokes. Might as well get on top of this thing while I’m only 27. I did pretty much get to eat exactly as I chose for my entire life so far, so it’s essentially a fair trade.

Now, I promise not to turn this into some sort of weight-loss journal (as soooo many blogs are, I’ve noticed), but I may write about it from time to time. It is a major life change. And maybe writing about it will help keep me honest.

Doesn’t mean it still doesn’t suck.