I am officially in charge of setting up the "Biggest Loser" challenge at my office starting this Monday. I should really get out of this size 8.... 10.... okay, 12! Don't judge me. I have a fiancee who enjoys getting kit kats and ice cream at midnight. He's probably going to make me fat with all these late night food runs, cheat on me after we're married, and blame it on the fact that he's not physically attracted to me anymore because of all the kit kats and ice cream. I'm pretty sure I'm mad at him now. Don't you worry, he'll be hearing about this when I get home from work.
Anyway, since the first weigh-in is on Monday, I'm going to need to eat as much as I can this weekend so I have better chances of losing the most weight and winning the jackpot. And I'll have to wear my jeans. And my boots. And have wet hair. And carry that brick in my purse.
And then for all the other weigh-ins, I'll have to weigh naked. And cut my hair. And maybe have a leg amputated.
We've already had several discussions about how we're going to lose the weight over our work IM. For example:
Me: I'm going to win. I'm incredibly competitive, and if I have to Kate Moss this challenge, I will.
R: I've already spent the winner money in my head.
Me: I already put a down payment on a pool.
H: Well I'm eating Subway for lunch.
Me: Well I'm having a Diet Water and a lemon for lunch.
H: I'm having air for lunch.
Me: I'm having DIET air for lunch. What now, bitches?!
(Nobody responds because they know they've been fucking OWNED.... or they were actually doing work. But probably the former, though.)
Me: You know what, guys? This is silly. I think I'm going to treat myself to a Diet Water for lunch instead of just Diet Air. It is Friday after all.
H: Go ahead and treat yourself.
I can never tell if the people I work take me seriously or just entertain me so I don't go crazy and bring a machete to work.
Although eating is my biggest weakness, I really don't mind exercising which is surprising considering my attitude through every work out video I do.
Through my entire Jillian Michaels: Banish Fat, Boost Metabolism workout, Fiancee can hear me in the other room yelling at the tv. "Nobody cares what you say, you stupid horsy man woman!" "Hey, Jillian, where do you tuck your dick in that spandex?" "Yo, girl in the back, stop all that fucking smiling! Nobody is that fucking happy to be working out!" "Bunch of stupid ass lesbians."
But, really, that's my way of letting Jillian know just how much she's helping me. I think she would understand. As for that bitch in the back, I really do hate her. Who smiles like that through a 45 minute workout? She's probably on crack.
All this writing about dieting really makes me want some pizza.