The only way I just can't lose...

There are three of us in my office on WeightWatchers. Today was weigh-in day for everybody, and I felt confident because I'd had a good week.

I did not cheat. Not once. I exercised -- more than once. I dutifully recorded everything that went into my mouth. If there had been a category for toothpaste I would have written that down too, just to be sure.

My two friends cheated several times through the week and neither of them exercised. And today we have the verdict...

Friend Number One: -4 pounds
Friend Number Two: - 5 pounds
Bambi: -0

As in 0 pounds lost. As in I'm the exact same weight I was when I was still eating whatever the hell I wanted and not exercising.

I took off my socks and underwear, thinking that perhaps my socks and underwear could be particularly heavy and stood on the scale again. Nothing.

I tied my hair back and took off the ring I forgot to take off before going to bed last night and tried again. Nothing.

The first week's results should give some kind of incentive to keep going. I've turned down dinners and drinks with friends so I could stick to the plan. I have half of my favourite dessert sitting in my fridge and I haven't touched it in a week. I'm sure it's not even good anymore but that's not the point.

The point is there is no more disappointing feeling in the world than trying so hard and not seeing that number on the scale go down.

I know I'm supposed to love myself for who I am and blah BLAH...but I love myself so much better when I can fit into my clothes. All of my clothes.

Next week I'm going to make sure and shave my legs before stepping on the scale. It's all I know to do for next time.