Hilarious

The women at Weight Watchers crack me up.

Today, I had a weight gain of .8 pounds. "Just a speck," according to the woman who signed me in at the front desk. A speck? It's almost a pound...

The woman at the front desk proceeded to look me over, up and down: "What kind of pants do you have on today?"

I had on light spandex exercise pants... the kind I always wear on weigh-in day. I had no shoes on and a light t-shirt on, like usual.  My clothing is the "control" in this weight loss "experiment."

My sister-in-law, upon hearing of my weight gain, asked me, "Did you... you know...go to the bathroom today?"

Hilarious...the excuses that we make for ourselves, and for others.

Nope, ladies. No heavier clothing. No lack of excretion. Just too many slices of pumpkin cake and Italian appetizers at Saturday night's dinner.

On to next week....

Heavy breathing, like Notorious B.I.G.

I remember when Notorious B.I.G.'s songs came out---my friends and I would laugh at the heavy breathing he produced during the song--clear signs that the man was morbidly obese and, possibly, had binged a cheeseburger, fries, and onion rings during sound checks.

Right now, I have a gigantic ass.  I am also breathing heavily when simply walking around or carrying things. I'm just annoyed at how I've "let myself go."

I officially started WW on Monday. Went to the meeting and stepped on the scale of truth. The number was higher than I thought it would be.  Some girl at the meeting was basically explaining her way of cheating the points system and making something be less points. Another woman asked, "I just don't know what to do. At night, all I want to do is eat." I had to slightly smile at comments like that. 1] Don't "cheat" the points system.... it's meant for estimations, not total scientific accuracies. 2] Um- don't eat?

I am trying to take things in stride. Went to put on my "big jeans" for work and they were skin tight. Skin tight where you are left with rivet marks from the waist band deeply pressing into your flesh. Whatever. Put on another pair of jeans that were probably too casual for work but oh well.

Am just trying to keep a positive state of mind, which is ridiculously difficult for pessimist me. Think I will make like DJ Tanner in that infamous Full House episode: put pictures of models all over the fridge, snack on ice cubes, and exercise lots... I'll be that episode minus the fainting.

Vocation

Voc means having to do with the voice. A vocation, as most know it, is a job-- though the word's definition also generally includes the phrase "a calling."

Tomorrow is the first day of school. Agh. At times, I wish summer vacation was less time or that I could find a "summer job" that would pay decent and be "fun." When it comes down to it, not working for two months makes it extremely difficult on the eventual evening before you go back to work.

I have to do seating charts, make some cut-outs for the bulletin board, and do some other mundane tasks. I've stayed in all day and basically done nothing except eat exorbitant amounts of food and flip-flopped through the various marathons on TV: 90210, Housewives of NJ, and The Office.

Of course, part of me is nervous about tomorrow morning--- the first impressions the students will form about me, especially.

Many times, people have asked me (students and adults) whether I think you need to be smart to be a teacher. While intelligence is a factor, when you get down to it, you just have to be a few steps in front of the students. Not exactly genius work, especially at middle school or primary school level.

At this stage in the teaching game, I feel like confidence can make you rise above any missing intellectual components. Act like you know and act like you are spectacular at what you do and people, notably 13 year olds, fall for it.

I feel like I am the other way around--I have the intelligence part down-pat but am lacking the confidence part---which makes going back to work tomorrow even more challenging. Nothing I will do with my classes tomorrow will be particularly deep or thought-provoking. I just need the confidence. Argh.

As thoughts are swirling around me about the idea of going "back to work," the following poem aptly arrived in my inbox as poem of the day.

Vocation
by Sandra Beasley

For six months I dealt Baccarat in a casino.
For six months I played Brahms in a mall.
For six months I arranged museum dioramas;
my hands were too small for the Paleolithic
and when they reassigned me to lichens, I quit.
I type ninety-one words per minute, all of them Help. Yes, I speak Dewey Decimal.
I speak Russian, Latin, a smattering of Tlingit.
I can balance seven dinner plates on my arm.
All I want to do is sit on a veranda while
a hard rain falls around me. I'll file your 1099s.
I'll make love to strangers of your choice.
I'll do whatever you want, as long as I can do it
on that veranda. If it calls you, it's your calling,
right? Once I asked a broker what he loved
about his job, and he said Making a killing.
Once I asked a serial killer what made him
get up in the morning, and he said The people.

The kind of morning I like

I haven't been outside yet, so who knows---it could be humid and uncomfortable.  I am loving the weather from inside the house though. Am sitting in the computer room with nothing but the windows to light the room. The blinds are half open. I can hear the breeze shake the trees intermittently. Spots of light and shadow are entering the window, then exiting. It's supposed to be in the 70s today. In my opinion, it's a perfect day.

"I'm a Weight Watcher!"

When I used to be on Weight Watchers (officially, as in going to the meetings and beaming over stupid incentives like bookmarks celebrating weight loss), I made up this 4-word jingle that basically copied the "I'm a Wheel Watcher" jingle from the gameshow. Instead, you guessed it, the lines in the jingle were "I'm a Weight Watcher."

Well, I guess I can sing that song again--starting this evening.

I have decided to rejoin Weight Watchers, meetings and all. I haven't stepped on a scale in ages but clothing says enough--- went to go put on my "loose" nice jeans for work and they were skin tight on me... like skin tight as in how Suzanne Somers wore her jeans on Three's Company. This was not a SEXY tight either.

Clothing tells enough. I don't need to step on a scale. I also don't want to step on a scale-- because I know the number will be high--the highest it has been in what I can truthfully say is YEARS.

I am trying to get too negative. Afterall, I am not 300 pounds or at the point of necessary gastric bypass (though I would welcome that "easy" weight loss-- haha). I'm just aggravated at myself. I got to such a good point over a year and a half ago and now I screwed it all up.

I used to say my total weight loss goal would be to get to 137. Screw that. For the timebeing, I just want my typically loose jeans to be loose:) Onward and upward (except for the #s on the scale)...