It's not what you're eating...

Everyone I know is on weight watchers or getting out of rehab. It is affecting my social life. I now keep a measuring cup in the bar for my friends to measure 4 ounces of wine. Some go through the process five times during dinner, thus the rehab. The party ends when they run out of points.
The concept is working. My friend Julie has lost forty pounds twice. She had two kids and faster than you can weigh six ounces of chicken she lost the weight. She always thought she was big boned and hated the song about the girl from southern Alberta. Alas she is now a willowy ballerina from southern Indiana.
I’m not working the program but have become well versed on the subject of flex points and my own relationship to food. Sixty pounds ago I was sitting in the bath tub watching TV and eating German chocolate cake. I was in an unsuccessful relationship and convinced myself that food was love. I ate my way to happiness, and a 36 inch waist. I had been a cyclist for years and parked the bike to focus on the relationship. I wonder if my friends talk about that kind of thing during their meetings.
Remember Susan Powter. She said “it’s not what you're eating it’s what’s eating you” and “Stop the insanity!” I wasn’t thinking of her when I got single again and started walking my dog twice a day, but her mantra did apply. I was thinking these thoughts while at dinner with six weight watchers of eight people. I zoned out of the point talk and remembered my quiet triumphant story.
As each pound went away I could feel my life again. Not because I felt sexier, although I did, or looked healthier. It was like loosing touch with an old and good friend and then seeing them again and realizing how much you missed them. Only it was me I missed. It feels great to be out of the tub, being with people I enjoy until they run out of points, and I wish each of them a joyful reunion with what they find inside.