It has been a little over a month since I broke up with Weight Watchers. What do I have to show for it? Ten extra pounds. That’s what. That’s 40 sticks of butter. I’ve probably eaten that many of them in the past month, so it’s not all that shocking.
I’m going back tomorrow. I can’t do this anymore. I need the accountability (yep, I still think of a bunch of guys sitting around a basement of a church talking about how they masturbated and how guilty they feel about it when I hear that word. [hey, JJ!]) that the group brings. I need to weigh in every single week before everything gets out of hand again.
I can’t decide whether to buy the monthly pass again. The last I heard, the Droid app is horrible. I don’t know if I can afford the $30+ being taken out of my account every month.
I guess I’m back to using that horrible rotten no good calculator, too. Boo.
It’s a small price to pay for sanity, I suppose.
Here we go again.