Dub-Dubs

So today I actually removed my fingers from my keyboard, stood up, and dragged my fat ass to Weight Watchers.

And holy shitbricks and coffee cakes, I lost TWO POUNDS! Two pounds, folks! That's like...shit, I don't know, but that's two pounds, and hell if I won't take it. I am officially two pounds less fat than I was last week.

So I drove back to work deliriously happy, with visions of rainbows and pink unicorns and fuzzy bunnies running through my head. And I ran (shut up) to my desk, logged in, and typed in "www.weightwatchers.com" as fast as my chubby little fingers could.

I logged in my weight, grinned, and pushed the "submit" button, waiting for the screen to pop up and tell me how wonderful I am.

And instead, I got this little diddy:

"Please note: You're probably excited to be losing weight, but you're losing faster than is recommended. Although it's normal to lose over 2 lbs in 1 week, if you lose more than an average of 2 lbs per week over a 4-week period, this could pose health risks, such as heart irregularities, anemia or loss of muscle mass. Please slow your weight loss; your doctor can help you do this if you're not sure how, or ask your Leader for ideas."

SON OF A BITCH.

The evil little Weight Watchers computer tramp thinks I'm losing weight too fast. What a pessimistic, sabotaging, horrific little buzzkill.

She obviously doesn't realize that I totally worked for this two pounds. She doesn't realize that instead of having 56 bags of fun-sized Skittles, I only had 2. Or that I parked a good two more spots farther in the Target parking lot than I normally do. Or that MY GOD, do I want cake right now.

She's probably skinny too.

Bitch.