So tonight was my first meeting back at Weight Watchers in nine weeks. It was entirely depressing. It was also the first meeting of 2019.
It was fucking shit.
I’m my own worst enemy. I could give you some shit excuse like “my head wasn’t in the right space!” (it wasn’t) or “But I wanted it!” (and I did!) but the simple truth is I need a meeting, I need to telling off, I need the controls and the order. If i try to do thinks my own way – with reagrd to my weight – I fail.
I have a fitness instructor calling me tomorrow and I’m back on the plan so all being well next week I’ll be down.
I fucking better be!