I apologize up front for being a little #humblebrag today...

God help me.  It's 8:40 in the morning on a Monday, and I've already had to call my wife to have her tell me why I can't quit my damn job.

But wait.  I have good news.  And I'm not going to let my stupidhead boss take my focus away from my good news:

I am officially down 42 pounds.  42 pounds in 56 days.  I wanted to say something last Thursday, when I first saw the number on the scale, but since it wasn't an official weigh-in day, I had to wait.

I wasn't particularly excited about 30 pounds.  But I'm excited about 42, because it means I have exactly 100 pounds left to lose.

I had a fill appointment on Saturday morning.  This time, my surgeon was the one doing the fills.  When he took me back into the room, he asked me how much weight I'd lost and then told me he needed a hundred more patients like me.

Boy, did that make me feel good.  I felt like every morning that I got up and went to bootcamp, even though I wanted nothing more than two more hours of sleep, it was worth it.  Every time I took a little longer grocery shopping because I was looking for the better food choices, it was worth it.  Every time I made my own lunch the night before work, it was worth it.  Every time I put on that Zumba belt and sweated for 45 minutes playing on the Wii, it was worth it.  Every time that I drove past the fast food instead of through the drive-thru, it was worth it.

I'm not done.  Not by a long shot.  But I've lost 30% of my excess weight in two months.  And now, for the rest of my journey, whenever I feel like slacking off on my diet or my exercise, I can look back on how accomplished I feel today, and I can use this feeling right now to motivate me.

Now, if I could find some accomplished feeling that would keep me from shanking my boss.