Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Okay, so you know how my mother tricked me into promising my dying father that I would join Weight Watchers, right?
Well, I did.
Last Thursday night was my first weigh-in. Notice how I'm not posting after this Thursday's meeting because I'm worried that I haven't lost anything. Don't get me wrong. I've stuck to the program and counted all my points. I've worked out every day. I'm just a-skared. It almost seemed too easy.
I need to suffer! I need to feel like I'm being deprived of things that all the good people of the world can eat. I don't want to be told that I can actually EAT a candy bar as long as I "count my points."
Okay, where's the camera? Is this going on YouTube?
I got there 30 minutes before the class so that I could register. The only reason I chose this particular meeting is because it's literally 3 minutes from my house in our city community center. I debated going at night because everyone knows that the best time to weigh yourself is first thing in the morning, naked, after you pee but before you shower. Wet hair adds unwanted ounces to the scale. Don't be a fool, people.
Well, I'm a fool. Because I had my initial weigh-in at 7PM, after gourging myself for a week and having a "last supper" Big Mac meal at 6PM. I couldn't love you more, two all beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions on a sesame seed bun.
I know I've said it before, but THIS was the most I've ever weighed.
I was so pissed off when she handed me the booklet where she had scribbled that...that NUMBER that I stomped over to a seat and waited for the class to start. There were only about 4 people there early and a guy about my age turned around to greet me.
Big mistake. Didn't he see me stomping?
"Well, hello, how are you today?"
I squinted my eyes at him, "Well, I would be a lot better if I wasn't so FAT!"
Where did that come from? I thought to myself. Wow. Fat people really are mean!
He turned away for a minute but came back for more.
"The weather's pretty nice, isn't it?"
Weather? Is this guy really trying to talk to me about the weather when I'm the fattest I've ever been in my life? How can he even stand to look at me? I'm hideous!
"Uh, huh." It's not his fault you're fat, Chrissy..
Hopefully, I'll have a positive outcome tomorrow so that I won't have to bitch slap him when he says, "So how was your first week?"