Yep, I'm definitely not as enthused this week about the diet as I was last week. I broke down and ate two mini-Snickers with my lunch, even though I brought apples and oranges to work for me to snack on.

Tonight is my first weigh-in, so we'll see if this is going to be worth $12 a week. I'd like to think that the number on the scale doesn't matter, and on one level, it doesn't. I don't hate myself because I'm fat. I don't look in the mirror and grimace 95% of the time. I don't like the way I photograph, but I never did, even when I was a lot thinner. The number on the scale only matters because it's the only imperical evidence I have that I'm smaller than I was last week, because I don't feel any skinnier and my clothes aren't looser.

I don't want this diet to turn into an obession with the scale, so I'm not weighing myself in-between meetings. I don't want to be celebrating the -.5s and getting depressed over the +.4s. I want the change to be in how I feel--I want to feel healthier and have more energy. I want to feel better about myself not just because I'm skinny, but because I've conquered something, some unnamed demon that made me this way, over 100 lbs. overweight. I want to learn how to eat properly. Last summer, when I had my gall bladder attacks and I wasn't planning on having the surgery right away, I tried to eat less fat so as not to anger my diseased gall bladder, and I realized that I didn't know how to do it. I didn't know what a low-fat diet was. That's just sad. It's also sad that it took me some six months or so to make a change, but now I'm doing it. So that's something. We'll see tonight if it's working.