I stepped on the scale this afternoon. I'm down another pound.
I have lost a total of 12 pounds.
And I don't think anyone noticed.
Not that I expected balloons or confetti to fall down from the sky - my initial goal is 20 lbs. so I haven't hit my goal. But dammit, I'm 8 lbs. away!
Can a sister get a high five? A pat on the back? I'll take a terrorist fist bump!
This reminds me of a Chris Rock joke. In one of his comedy specials, he talks about men who take care of their children and how they want accolades for it. Chris says, "That's what you supposed to do! Take care of your kids, pay child support. What you want a cookie?!?"
I'm not necessarily doing this for the fanfare - it's for me. But man, sometimes recognition feels good. Until then, I'm assuming that the scale is the only one that is happy - because now when I get on it, I don't want to kick it.
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