I bought a gift for myself tonight. If things go as they are supposed to with this gift, I will have given myself a longer, happier life. Seeing as how I'm 36, I'd love to get 64 more years on the deal.
I joined Weight Watchers.
I'm proud of myself. It takes an awful lot for me to ever admit that I need help with something. I'm one of those classic independent, stubborn people -- pulling myself up by my own bootstraps (so to speak) is something I pride myself on. For me to walk in that door, fill out the paperwork and -- the real horror -- stepping on that scale ..... well, it took ovaries, and I'm glad I had enough of them to do it.
Strangely enough, I am also absolutely scared crapless. I am scared of failing. I want so much for this to succeed. I really do. There wouldn't be many other alternatives except The Surgery -- and while some people have had great success with it, I would be the 1 out of the 200 who'd die. I know it. Can't prove it, but I know it.
I can't believe how excited and frightened, optimistic and scared I am. All this jumble of emotions.......