Help! I've Fallen And I Can't--

Oh, wait. Wrong commercial. Doesn’t apply here. What I’m saying is, the parcel from Jenny is due to arrive tomorrow and, for my money, it can’t arrive too soon because…

My willpower is at an all time low.

Take last Friday…

I meet up with Marty and Ann at the new Fudrucker’s…I stand in the on-deck circle, amidst a whole lotta hustle and bustle, trying to zero in on something lite but satisfying. After all, it’s five-thirty, just after quittin’ time, and I’m in happy hour mode—not the full-on dinner frenzy. But suddenly it’s my turn to order and even though I keep waving people ahead of me, the pressure is on. Ann suggests I order nachos (definitely my go-to) and although it doesn’t fall into the lite category, she says she’ll split it with me, so I figure what the hell.

The nachos arrive and we’re talking MONDO. Naturally, I fall all over it, shoveling chips in my mouth like the food police are gonna whisk it away unless I gobble it all down quickly. (Ann, I notice, is daintily eating one, then two—at this rate, I’ll consume 80 percent of it before she gets to bite three).

Then the unthinkable happens.

Marty and Ann go to collect their hamburger orders and…there’s been some mistake. There’s an EXTRA one, complete with fries. They bring it back to me, claiming the restaurant didn’t even charge them for it. I accuse them of conspiracy, but…well, the bottom line is: I don’t have to eat it, do I? I mean, they didn’t pay for it. They can send it back.

But they offer it to me.

And listen, folks. You put food in front of me, I’m gonna eat it. Even when I’ve just devoured fourteen pounds of Chicken Nachos.

So I did.

And I detested myself for the next twenty-four hours. ‘Cuz, really. A small plate of nachos would have been bad enough…but what I ate was practically immoral. And then to top it off with a ginormous hamburger buttressed by a humongous homemade bun…not to mention two potatoes worth of fries…let’s just say, this little episode wiped out the meager section of my closet still available for social functions.

Which meant I was pretty limited the next morning when I went to dress for my nephew’s fiancee’s bridal shower.

Oh, but I felt better after talking to my stepmom.

Her: “Congratulations, I heard the great news!”

Me: “Um, what news is that?”

Her: “That you signed up for Jenny Craig! Your dad told me, and I think it’s wonderful. You know, it’s so important to be beautiful. Not just in the face, but in the body.”

Help me. I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.