Last night, I weighted myself. Since being with Andrew, I have slowly been turning into a mushier version of myself (and I don't mean emotionally. I've always been hormonal). This fall, with the help of work's Biggest Loser Challenge, I decided to go back to my previous Drew Barrymore-esque body, vs. the Oprah thing that's kinda happening. (Ok, I'm not really looking like Oprah, I exaggerate. But that's for another post.)
I vowed to stop eating as much nacho cheese and cookies (although dark chocolate is good for the heart… and soul) and to start getting off the couch sometimes. Despite my half-ass efforts, I wasn’t looking any different. Until LAST NIGHT! I hopped up on the scale, cringed down at the screen in non-anticipation and saw that I have LOST FIVE POUNDS OMG!
So, like any normal person, I ran to Andrew to tell him the news. He was busy washing dishes and wasn’t really listening, until he noticed I had my arms up in the air screaming “I’M BABY! PICK ME UP!”. Really, at that point, he couldn’t ignore me.
Andrew: What are you talking about?!
Me: I lost weight! Now we can do the Dirty Dancing move!
Me: You’re Patrick Swayze! PICK ME UP!
Andrew: I can’t do that!
Me: Now I’ve had, the time of my life… *arms still raised*
Andrew: No way!
Me: … no, I’ve never felt this way before! *arms now flailing* And I swear.. ANDREW… this is truuuue PICKMEUP!
Good thing this didn’t happen in front of our big picture window.