My pants fit better than they have in ages. I can almost fit totally comfortably in my skinny pants. My abs feel tight. I am hitting the gym. I am eating less, and getting my water. I feel great.
My scale has not moved. I want to kick it.
I want to beat it with a hammer.
Excuse me?
I know the weight has gone somewhere.
Parts of me are smaller but nothing else has gotten bigger.
I know it is probably muscle.
But I don't really care.
I want to see the numbers drop!
I have decided not to weigh myself again until the 12th of April, when I have a doctors appointment. Until then, it is bust hump time so that I see some results.
Obsessing over a number is just wrong. I refuse to do it.
36 days, sister. 36 days.
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