Fat Folks Anonymous

So today a co-worker of mine asked me if I wanted to join Weight Watchers with her. *sigh* Yeah, okay, I said I wanted to lose weight in front of her, but having that question asked to my face, point blank means - IT'S OBVIOUS I am living on Please Pass The Cheesecake Street.

Prior to this moment, over the holidays I was 'thinking to myself': Yes, I DO have a buh-donk-a-donk, and yes, most of the men who cat call or give me the lewd once over are either of African American or Mexican descent (oh those dudes LOVE what I gots goin' on), but I should really try to celebrate this process of who I am, and this body that will carry me through this transformation.

I then further thought to myself: So if a certain demographic finds me sexy, maybe I am just inherently sexy and, therefore, I should celebrate this fact right now by swinging the aforementioned Onion a little more than normal. So I practiced. Right there in my mother-in-law's house. I swung my hips back and forth and you know what happened?

I knocked shit over.

And I whacked my three year old in the head - a couple of times... WITH MY ASS. It's safe to say there is more than a small chink in my 'you go girl' armor.

I am immediately going cold turkey on 'thinking to myself' because let's face it, it really doesn't work out for me. Any and all brand new 'bright ideas' will either be immediately quashed or published right here for ya'll to see. Haaaaaaay.

So, post-cheesecake, it occurred to me that, well, perhaps a nice net of folks to help in the M.M.B.S. (Make Mommy's Butt Smaller) effort might not be a bad idea.

I'm thinking ok Weight Watchers, I'll do some 12 stepy program - hopefully it'll work. And ok, I'll get back into Pilates, and maybe that teacher training I abandoned right before 'the great expanse' will come in handy.

I'm picking up my ego and putting it back on, despite the dust. Alright, Thursday here I come.