My 13 weeks of Weight Watchers passes arrived two weeks ago, and I quickly stuffed them in our green secretary until things around here calmed down. Last night it occurred to me as I looked at this week’s schedule (Valentine’s, the Mister’s birthday, and parties at my parents and my inlaws for Nicholas) that the perfect time is most likely the day after the end of the world. I kind of want to lose weight before then, so I decided to sign up today, Friday the 13th, because that’s the kind of rapscallion I am.
Low and behold, the Weight Watchers closest to me is next door to The Avenue, a plus-sized clothing store with the most cockeyed name in fashion and merchandising. I want to meet the thin, white male who decided to name a plus-sized clothing store after a wide street or thoroughfare. I imagine him brainstorming business concepts with a buddy over lunch at Hooters.
Bob, what do you think about a clothing store for women with thighs as wide as streets? I can call it The Avenue, get it?
Brilliant idea, Frank. Can I put my Weight Watcher’s next to it?
Sure, Frank. And while we’re at it, let’s call Roy and see if he wants put a Del Taco on the corner pad in the parking lot. Win, win, win, is what I like to say.
So I went in and everyone was very nice and friendly. Of course, every single woman in the center had to comment on the PHENOMENAL DEAL I got on my coupons. That they have NEVER SEEN SUCH A DEAL IN ALL THEIR WEIGHT WATCHERS YEARS. And, of course, HOW DID YOU GET SUCH A DEAL AND CAN I GET ONE, TOO? The collective roar my coupons garnered annoyed me somewhat so it was with great satisfaction that I replied, even louder, THANKS! I GOT THEM 3 DAYS BEFORE MY HUSBAND GOT LAID OFF AFTER 10 YEARS OF DEDICATED SERVICE. YAY ME. Now weigh me, Sally.
She weighed me, and while I didn’t break any springs on the scale, I did I pop a blood vessel when she wrote my weight down. Awesome. At their recommended two pounds a week weight loss I should be at goal the day before the end of the world, technically still within my goal, but a bit of a disappointment. Not one to be deterred for long, I grabbed my new member materials, squeezed into my folding chair, and started to read. Would you believe there is fine print that says family members over 50 are not allowed to ask how you are doing on your diet even if they read your blog and only just now discovered you were thinking about Weight Watchers? Well, believe it. Ahem.
Despite registering on the unluckiest day of the year to sit weekly with a bunch of coupon crazed, overweight people, I am feeling optimistic. In fact, not even the smell of wet rain mixed with Del Classic Chicken Burritos could shake the feeling of excitement I had when I left. I even had divine confirmation. I wasn’t paying attention when I pulled out of the driveway and went right when I should have turned left. This added 10 stop lights to my trip home, but instead of delaying me, every light on my way home was green or turned green as I drove up. The only red light I hit (out of 15) was in front of the church where I grew up–the church where the Mister and I got married 9 years ago. It’s like God was telling me I made the right decision and, figuratively speaking, was giving me the green light. My sense of direction still sucks, but at least I’m on the right path.