I think I'm getting a hang of the WW Flex points now, in that the 1750 extra calories you're allotted each week are not supposed to be used furtively while under the cover of darkness. I have this tendency to view anything marked "flexible" as a crutch for weaklings, and so I either try valiantly to not use the Flex Points or, having dipped into them, I spiral into a pit of despair (mental image of that one guy from Princess Bride) and end up binging on all 34 remaining points and then, say, nineteen or twenty more. Because apparently I must be the valedictorian of Weight Watchers, or else the weight loss doesn't really count. What a jackass I am.

I think for me the points thing still confuses me, because I'm so comfortable counting actual calories. Somehow points seem bigger and more ominous, and while I may not have batted an eye at eating 50 calories over my 1500 limit, adding in an extra point fires off a Klaxon warning to my brain and suddenly everything turns orange and men in Hazmat uniforms run at me and spray an extra layer of lard to my hips even before the last bite of Sunchips I just popped are sliding down my throat.

But seriously, 1 point is 50 calories, right? And 35 points are 1750 calories and that's only a half pound difference in the course of a week, and you don't have to use them all if you don't want to AND you could easily burn off at least half that by walking a few times a week.

So I'm not so sure what I was freaking out about...no need for Flex Point-related self-loathing at all, especially when the fact that the longest "adult" conversation I've had today was with my cat is TOTALLY more pathetic.