Remember all the stuff about fatness?

Well. Last year at this time I decided to do someting crazy and start an online journal of my weight loss, knowing full well that people I actually know in real life would be reading it. I thought that if people were keeping up with my progress, it would encourage me to actually stick with it. And it did, so yay on me for the brilliant idea.

I reported a weekly weigh-in every Friday, and after six months of doing Weight Watchers (without meetings), walking, and reporting to you folks, I had lost 30 pounds. I was starting to feel good in my body again - strong, athletic, much less likely to die of a heart attack.

And then I moved. MonkeyPants and I took moving week off from Weight Watchers on accounta we knew we'd be eating all kinds of naughty things while in transition. But we sorta forgot to start up again. I started working and found that I didn't have the time to blog like I'd hoped (or, rather, that I was too exhausted to make time for the computer - the desk job was so much more conducive to blogging!). And I didn't feel like cooking at the end of the day, either. And I didn't feel like counting Points. Or walking. And also there are vending machines right upstairs.

So, you see, it was just a perfect storm, and I was the brave captain going down with the ship. There was no fight for survival, no rising above...in fact, there wasn't a whole lot of anything but eating going on.

And so I am both sad and happy to report that tomorrow (or later this morning, actually) I officially start considering going back on Weight Watchers. Happy because I haven't felt this motivated to do anything about my fat ass in awhile. Sad about the twelve-pound (or more) weight gain that is necessitating the motivational search.

I will weigh myself in the morning and report the damage directly to you. Well, first to MonkeyPants, as she is my partner in the whole dance, but then right to you all. And I know that none of you really gives a shit whether or not I am fat, but I will feel more inspired knowing there are witnesses. And by inspired, I mean under tremendous pressure not to disappoint you all by failing, again, to attain a patriarchally-approved body (even while sincerely believing that everything that comes with the Patriarchy's stamp of approval is either illusory or just plain evil - but that's my baggage to haul around...four devoted readers can't erase thirty years of cultural brainwashing as easily as you might think.).

Anyway, I just wanted to thank you all for existing, 'cause without that, I couldn't rope you into the whole witness gig. You don't have to do much, really. Mostly it's just saying "keep it up" and "that's okay" and "you're fucking fantastic" every few weeks. I'm pretty easy to take care of. Unless it's me doing the caretaking.

That felt like a breakthrough moment.

See you tomorrow!