When my friend asked me to join Weight Watchers she said we've come up with a name for our group (there are actually three of us that go to meetings together) and it's called FUT. It stands for Fatties Unite Tonight. We decided that we'd go to a Tuesday night meeting. The meeting place is kind of funny, at least in my mind. It's inside a grocery store. Now, I've kind of heard of meetings happening next door to a Krispy Kreme or Dunkin Donuts and I thought it was funny. That was before I went to a meeting.
After you do some paperwork and they give you your Week 1 booklet and your temporary journal and points calculator, it's time for the thing you dread the most.
The scale.
It's a little scary. See, this is where things get a little embarrassing, I hadn't been on a scale in.... oh I don't even know how long. When I went to the doctor's office the nurse would ask me if I knew how much I weighed. HA. That's like the DMV asking you what you're weight and height are. Ugh... about... well... hmmm...
Ironically, all those months and months that I had been guessing about my weight, I was 4 pounds off. And I was guessing 4 pounds heavier. So, while the number wasn't good, I still felt a little better because I wasn't quite as fat as I thought I was.
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