Dog Gone

I officially changed my meeting today. Our meeting leader changed at my cult storefront at home over the new year, and since then I haven't felt connected at all to the meetings. I was more irritated than engaged -- there were still the same handful of guys there, but suddenly I felt marginalized in a way I hadn't before. It might be my own feelings of dislocation from the world I've been struggling with these past few months, but however it came about, my meeting just wasn't doing it for me, and I was having no success.

So today I went to the meeting around the corner from work, with the intention of making it my regular meeting. I like the leader, and it's a large, engaged group. Still not many guys, but there also wasn't a twenty-minute discussion/lamentation about diet soda, so I didn't feel completely out of the loop.

Anyway, the important news is that I got rid of this little guy. How much was that doggie in the window? Four pounds is how much he was. Now, some of that was fake weight -- I'd pigged out in the afternoon before my meeting, eating a girl scout's weight in cookies. But some of it was real, jambalaya/rum/beer/cornbread-induced weight gain.

And today? That dog is gone. And he took a friend. I stepped on the scale to find that a full five pounds didn't step on with me. Approximately the weight of this whole octopus that you can order to make sushi. And that's despite something I can only refer to as the "Swedish fish/Raisinets incident" until the court documents are unsealed in 2015.

Tentacles, baby. High five!

Rob