A barrel of laughs....

I went to Weight Watchers last night to see the damage... and it was not good news! At least I am back in the game and ready for action. My mind has been elsewhere and my waistline has suffered! The Black Mamba (aka my boss) put the fear of God into me last week with her tirades and tantrums! It is her fault, she pushed me over the edge and straight onto the treat table and into the chocolate brownies. My Rescue Remedy spray was being used every 10 minutes in an attempt to calm myself down and numb my tongue to prevent any wicked retaliation escaping my lips. From the Rescue Remedy overdose and Velcro tongue syndrome (similar feeling to the morning after the night before) I insisted on snacking to get rid of the awful taste. Let me think .... can I blame anything or anybody else?

My turning point of my downward spiral was going out for dinner on Monday night. It was a delightful Italian restaurant, I was with my boyfriend, his brother and wife and a whole bunch of old friends from my school year. The class genius and the class stud joined us with their better halves. Genius brought his fiancé, blondie, quite loud, bubbly and made it clear that "she had just had a killer spin class" - yawn! My poor suffering boyfriend squeezed my leg in a kind of acknowledgment as if to say "yes I am aware you also did your killer spin class today - well done you!"
Stud brought his new girlfriend ... she looked about twelve, had a chiseled little elfin face with the most exquisite features which of course created the perfect canvas for her designer get up. The rest of the party arrived in dribs and drabs. I ordered my little carafe of white wine and was loving life and chatting ever so nicely. I ordered my meal and was determined to have something different so I chose a Calzone. When my meal arrived everyone was in awe of its large size. I just wanted to shout out, "it is the same bloody size as yours people, mine is just folded over so it is just looks bigger" dimwits! I suddenly felt a bit complexed and scanned the table at all the other WAGS - not a drop of alcohol to be seen... just sparkling water and salads. I whispered to my boyfriend... "Oh me God, I am a little piggy, I am the only one drinking and eating a bloody massive Calzone" - he just laughed and told me I was way more fun!
Thanks for the compliment my man but it got me thinking...jeepers am I like one of those people who is "a barrel of laughs" or "a ton of fun" - aka the chubster who provides entertainment for all the sad skinny people sipping on their sparkling water?

I cannot wait to one day go to a dinner party, look like a million dollars and feast on all the good food and wine. I won't be a boring and order a salad and look pained whilst admiring everyone else's plates. For once, I will be one of those irritating but glamorous woman that everybody admires - a skinny bitch with an appetite!

(Note to self: I must remember losing weight will not make me taller. My vision of me at goal weight is a bit delluded as I see myself with these long legs that go on for miles but.... so not what my Mamma gave me!)