Let the shedding begin!

I joined Weight Watchers again. This is my first week. I am point tracking, calorie counting, recipe building, flex finagling, progress charting, and basically becoming a slave to my future fabulous self.

I am suspiciously optimistic of reaching my goal this time around. And frankly, it frightens me. Because if I lose 23.5 lbs. of pure, cellulite security, then who will I be? Well, let’s cross that bridge when (and if) we get there, right?

Okay, the best advice at this point is to review my goals for weight reduction.
Here they are:

1. Ability to outrun MaryEllen
2. Leap nimbly over the damn toys
3. Slide between the minivan seats without bruising my belly retrieving old juice boxes and stray animal crackers
4. Give my mirror a well-deserved break
5. Justify a new wardrobe with a size ? body (I am not being coy, I actually don’t know what size negative 23.5 lbs is!)
6. Make my husband drool over me (why should it always be Phoebe’s job?)
7. Reverse Global Warming (unlikely, but initially the two endeavors seem on par)
8. Catch the eye of someone younger than me, who is not currently attending preschool
9. Shock and awe myself
10. Move on to other more lofty goals

There it is, just some of the myriad of reasons for beginning this courageous journey to the other side of chubby. It is going to be a long road, so I will be needing recruits for my journey. I have already enlisted Lynne and Tonya. And a host of others will be drafted involuntarily and forced at butter-knife point to listen to every excruciating detail of my new leaner life.

Bring on the scales! Time to face fat!