You're My Obsession!

I consider myself to be a pretty laid-back, type B sort of person.  I roll with the punches, go with the flow, and pretty much don't get too worked up about anything.

Except weighing in.

Saturday weigh-ins make me turn me into an obsessive-compulsive, fanatical freakazoid that I hardly even recognize.

In case you didn't know it, the preparation for the Saturday weigh-in actually begins the day before. All day long on Friday, and even more so on Friday night, I'm uber-careful about the actual physical weight of my food.  Some foods are completely verboten on Fridays: spaghetti, steaks, baked potatoes, lasagna...anything with substantial weight to it.  I find that I'm not so much concerned with the actual points values of my foods on Fridays, though I have yet to ever go over my points the day before a weigh-in, I'm more concerned about how many ounces will magically disappear overnight and how many I'll still be saddled with the next day.

You've noticed that, haven't you?  You weigh yourself before bed, then weigh again when you wake up (completely naked of course...which means you have to get up before anybody else does because NO ONE is seeing your naked belly rolls, except your 2-year old who doesn't count yet).  And lo-and-behold, when you wake up you're a few pounds lighter than when you went to bed!  It's like the magical fat fairy came by your room and liposuctioned some of you away.

So all that to say, I'm really careful about what I eat on Fridays.  Though, I'm not always really smart about it.  For example, a dinner of spaghetti with meat sauce, salad, and a slice of bread might cost me 12 points in all that night.  But, I can also go to Dairy Queen and get a medium chocolate-dipped cone for 12 points, or a LARGE non-dipped cone for 12 points (points values may not be accurate, this is purely for illustrational purposes, and I'm too lazy right now to actually look up the points, but you get my point).

Spaghetti dinner??  
Or the ice cream??  

I know the spaghetti dinner will be satisfying and is somewhat good for me.  I know that the ice cream will satisfy me for about 42 minutes before my stomach starts rumbling again and I crash from my sugar high.  But, even though I know better....I usually would choose the ice cream.  Do you know why, oh gentle reader??  Because, in my little head, ice cream melts making it a liquid, and I'm more likely to pee out the ice cream than I am to, well....""evacuate" the spaghetti....in time for my weigh in the next morning.

Sick?  Delusional?  Maybe.  That's just how my twisted little mind works.

Actually, this is really indicative of a constant problem I have with being successful on Weight Watchers.  I try to manipulate the plan so that I can eat crap and still lose weight.  And it just doesn't seem to be working very well that way.  I must be a slow learner, because for over 2 years I was trying to work the program this way.  I admit, I did enjoy the ice cream, but I didn't enjoy the yo-yoing up and down...one pound loss this week, two pound gain the next.

I haven't had an ice-cream-for-dinner-Friday for a while now, but I know that I'm not yet cured of this OCD behavior.  Another example of my fanaticism happens when I get dressed in the morning.


"Koichi!  Have you seen my pair of blue underwear?"
"Your what??"
"My blue undies.  You know, the pair with all the holes in it."
"Didn't you throw those away?"
"Throw them away!  Are you crazy???  Those are my WEIGH IN DIDIES!  I have to have them!"

I wear the exact same outfit every week.  Snow, rain, or shine, the same pair of capris, same T-shirt, same socks (the little cuffed ones because I figure less fabric=less weight), same undies (if I can find them-see above-), and same bra.

I actually weighed all my bras to find the lightest one.  It has a special place of honor in my underwear drawer.

I recently had to change my weigh-in outfit and it was really, really hard.  The capris, though comfy, are not so warm in the snow.  Plus, I haven't shaved my legs since October and I'm afraid of someone thinking I'm a Sasquatch.  That's kind of embarrassing, because you know the person next to you is trying not to look at you when you cross your legs, but then you see them out of the corner of your eye, and they see you see them, and they're embarrassed, and you're embarrassed, and it's a whole big mess that is better when avoided.  I know, I could just shave my legs, but I choose to retain as much warmth as possible during the winter.

So tomorrow's the day and  I've already got my weigh-in outfit all laid out.  (Yes, I did find my undies, thank you very much.  I just KNEW you were curious about that!)