There Are Signs, and Then There Are Ginormous Blinking Neon SIGNS

I woke up this morning, as I often do, vaguely dissatisfied with my weight-loss efforts (or more correctly, the lack thereof in recent months). It occurred to me that exactly eleven years ago today, on December 31, 1994, I joined Weight Watchers for the thousandth and last time—I say “the last time” because I was finally successful, losing 108 pounds and becoming a lifetime member in January 1998*. (Lifetime members never have to rejoin, even if they gain the weight back.) I toyed with the idea of returning to my old meeting today, since New Year’s Eve seemed to be a good trick that time, but my thoughts quickly skittered over to what to make for breakfast.

And then, while drinking my coffee, I read the paper. What do I find screaming at me from the Times? An interview with Linda Huett, the CEO of Weight Watchers. Fuck. You just can’t ignore a sign like that, can you? OK, it wasn’t exactly screaming—it’s a single column, tucked inside on page 3 of the business section. But for me, it’s as big a sign as I’m likely to get. There’s a noon meeting in Astoria, where I went for all those years, where I made such a big deal here about my previous return, last March. I’m throwing on some clothes and heading over there right now, before I change my mind. Afterward I’ll hit the amazing produce stores in that neighborhood, since these days a vegetable is nearly a foreign substance in our kitchen. (In my defense, because of the surgery I haven’t exactly been cooking a lot, and we did just run out of things two days ago…)

If I can muster the courage, I may even post my miserable weight here. That’s a big IF, mind you, since so many people I know in real life read Words to Eat By… Gulp.

* If you want the full story of my weight and weight loss, read the entries called “The Three Faces of Me.”

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