Jul 27 2006
Well, I did it. I went.
I returned to Weight Watchers tonight.
Upon entry into the front area, the lights flashed and balloons and confetti fell from the ceiling! They said “Linda, you are our MILLIONTH customer and therefore we have arranged for you to be able to eat all the Skittles and Cheddar Bay Biscuits you want while still losing weight!” They all hugged me and applauded! I know, you must be as disbelieving as I was. I didn’t know Weight Watchers could control such things as that, but there you have it - evidently they can!
OK, that didn’t really happen.
What happened was this. I walked in and that perky Vickie said “Linda! The lost little lamb from our flock! The prodigal daughter! Oh, how we have missed your riveting stories and contributions to our meetings. Each week, someone was heard to utter ‘Where DID that funny, adorable Linda go and when will she come back to us?’ and here you are! You’re BACK!” They missed me so much that my membership is a courtesy membership for the rest of my life!
OK, that didn’t really happen either.
It wasn’t good at all. I walked in and that perky Vickie turned to me and took on somewhat of a Nurse Ratchet attitude. She took out the Weight Watchers Sorority Hazing Paddle (it has their logo on it and everything) and spanked me one time for each meeting I missed. No, I swear. Right this instant I am blogging standing up. She told me to never ever ever let it happen again and now I’m scared. Fear, she said. FEAR will take the weight off and I believed her. I was afraid not to.
OK, that didn’t really happen either (you probably already knew that, though, huh?)
There were no balloons or spankings and I barely listened to the lecture because my imagination was running wild as I composed this very post in my head.
But I went. And I stepped on the scale.
I’ve been gone from the flock for 3 months (or so) and I’ve gained 10 pounds (or so). OK, stop pinching me - 11 pounds. I’ve gained 11 pounds. And another point 4 too. 11.4. STOP PICKING ON ME!!! So I rounded down - it’s allowed, right?
But I went. I’m back in, back on.
Let the weight loss commence. Because? I want some fucking balloons and confetti!
