Packin'

I went back to Weight Watcher’s because I started looking like Homer Simpson in my underpants but here was the problem: The last time I'd tried going back they turned me away. They said given my height I wasn’t overweight enough.  “A person would have to have a weight someplace within this range to qualify, CAROLINE” they said, using my real name  which always makes me feel like, Help it’s the nuns again. I couldn’t take the chance of being turned away again so  I started lying the second I walked in the door. I said I was two inches shorter than I really am in the hope that I would seem heavier in relation to height, and I also did another thing: I stuck a couple of five-pound weights into my pants and went to the weigh-in like that; stepped onto the scales and boom, I was in.

Every week after that I slid those dense little packets into my pants and sure they made me walk a little funny but they worked. The 1st week I lost some actual weight through careful eating. The 2nd week I plateau'd.  The 3rd week I overate a tad, so just took one of the weights out  before going there. “Down five pounds!” the lady sang. And the 4th week I ate everything in sight and so took out the other one. “Another five!” she rejoiced and pasted a little gold star into my booklet.

Sadly, when I stopped 'carrying' I also stopped 'losing.'  Some weeks I even gained, and the nice lady would try to comfort me: “But look how much weight you’ve lost since you began here! A whole ten pounds!” Sigh. So I guess I feel better confessing here but if doing so in such a public forum gets me kicked out, well then what will I do, if they bar the door and take away my Points Tracker?

Well. Recovery is over-rated I can always tell myself - and couldn’t I just pack my car full of Ding Dings and Ho-Ho's quicker than you could say Jack Robinson! Plus hey there's always alcohol. And anyway think about it: Who wants to be a skinny grandma ?