I plucked up my courage to get back on the scales this week and it wasn't too bad: 60.9 kg. That equates to roughly 9st 8lbs.
Last time I weighed I was 61.3 kg. (I really must find out how to change the settings on my scales to imperial.) That's 9st 9lbs.
If I'm being accurate it's slightly less than 1 lb (.9) I've lost but I'll colour in 2 blobs in expectation of doing better next week. (Although it is Husband's birthday.)
So that's two Tuesdays that I've not weighed.
It was my birthday the Monday before last and the after-choc-shocks are still happening - or were until yesterday when I finished it all. (Except two boxes of Maltesers that I am trying very hard to keep hidden and not eat yet.)
Feeling fat and podgy and didn't want to experience the horror of a reality check so stayed away from the scales today again.
Next week it WILL be different. It had better be otherwise my Christmas dress will be indecent.
The trouble with me - can you tell that I haven't done very well? - is that I think I can get away with things.
Like crisps. I'm not eating a whole packet. No, just handfuls of a family size packet.
Fruit doesn't count. It's allowed. It's good for me. I can eat a whole tub of grapes.
I only eat sweeties in the car so they don't count.
And so on.
Which is why I've only lost barely half a pound this week. I decided to be generous with my decimal placings allowing me to colour in one blob on my Christmas dress. At this rate it will be a very mini dress. (I'm starting with the boobs to ensure some bits of me are covered at least.)
