I'm Such a Follower

Ok, so that's kind of the furthest thing from the truth. I tend to the be the one with the scathingly brilliant ideas, dragging other unsuspecting souls down with me as I act out my crazy plans. Granted, my leadership abilities might stem from the Bipolar Girl in me, but who doesn't like a happy manic?!? Anyway... I digress...

I do things MY way. I don't feel the need to be a part of the masses or do things just because "everyone is doing it." So imagine my disappointment in myself when I somehow allowed my BFF Katie to sucker me into rejoining the evil cult called Weight Watchers at Work. I don't like her very much right now. She didn't really "convince" me so much as use emotional blackmail. She's my lunch buddy. We used to go out to eat every day! And she won't go out to eat with me since she and Sasha rejoined Fat Class two weeks ago!

I don't understand it! These were MY GIRLS!!! The ones I could always count on to order an appetizer AND dessert with me... The ones who weren't afraid to admit they loved food, and who ate like REAL women... Why on earth would they go and willingly enter the world of counting points and public humiliation weigh-ins? Why would they go and guilt me into joining them?!? Some friends they are!



I suppose if I'm being honest with myself, I can admit it. I'm fat (a fact that was confirmed in Fat Class today as I weighed in for the first time). Pleasantly plump, full-figured, fluffy, big-boned... Whatever you want to call it. That's me. And in all fairness, I'm going on a Caribbean cruise in November. And no one wants to see all of THIS in a bathing suit... I'm only thinking of others.

Now that I think about it, I think that was another of Katie's emotional blackmail techniques. She's smart, that one! She's most likely going on that cruise with me (Stressed-Out Moms UNITE!), and if she's all losing weight and getting all model-y by November, I sure as heck don't want to be wearing a mumu when she's in a swimsuit on the white sandy beaches of Cozumel!

I can't really exercise because my leg's still broken (a whole other post in itself). But let's be honest... I wouldn't be exercising anyway (hence the extreme chunky monkeyness and the need to join Fat Class in the first place). The only part I like about going to the gym is gossiping in the sauna! Since I can't get my gossip on in the gym, and my girls won't go out to eat with me anymore, I am forced to join the evil cult known as Weight Watchers at Work. Fat Class it is!

Hi... My name is Mimi, and I have been suckered into admitting that I am fat.