The only thing that kept me from eating a jumbo-sized jar of green olives with a spoon on Sunday was a handful of measly points. Until I started dieting in earnest this past month, I didn’t believe I suffered from PMS. No odd cravings, no insatiable fits of hunger, and no appreciable weight gain. I’ve reconsidered my position on the matter this week, and now think routinely feasting at the trough of gluttony may have skewed my perception.
These days, laying prostrate at Weight Watchers feet, I discovered I do get PMS and can (1) follow a handful of olives with low fat butter cookies, (2) several times an hour, and (3) gain 1 pound per day all while staying within my daily points allotment. I also might have freaked out in the middle of wrapping a present on Saturday and torn to shreds a card I made that turned out 1/16 of an inch off center, but we’re not going to talk about that.
Despite my hollow leg and fits of rage, I have stayed on plan and within my point value–even though this week it may not be enough. I know I shouldn’t, but the soles of my feet have been glued to the bathroom scale. I have managed to lose some of the water weight, but my ankles still look like topography maps. On Monday I was three pounds up. Today I weigh the same as I did Friday. I am disappointed that this week has been a struggle, even after sticking so closely to plan, but I have to admit I am proud of myself for continuing to stick with it when I could easily call it a loss and sit in front of the TV with a stick of butter.
I have no idea if I will show a weight loss this week. I guess that depends on how many olives and butter cookies I have left.