just call me jillian

The five other ladies in my office (Townie Girl, Led Zep Girl, M1, Receptionist Without Colorful Nickname, and Nurse Practitioner Without Colorful Nickname) are doing their own version of the Biggest Loser. They each put up $20 and at the end of four weeks, whoever has lost the most percentage-wise gets a hundred dollars. Since I am the only one who doesn't need to be dieting, I was drafted into being the person who does the weigh-ins (behind closed doors), records the weights, and holds on to the cash. "Just call me Jillian," I said. I hope that means I get to yell at people and make them cry. (Oh, just KIDDING.)

This has put me into the semi-uncomfortable position of now knowing what all my co-workers weigh, especially since they don't know what each other weigh--no one wanted to make this info public. I gotta say, I would make a very bad carny. My guess would have been about 40 pounds off in a couple of cases. But it was nice to be told that I was the perfect person to be doing this, that i.e. everyone knows I can be trusted to not go blabbing confidential shit around and that I'm not all Judgy Mc Judgerson.

Well, much. I did have to bite my tongue to keep from asking whether if none of them lose any weight, *I* get to keep the hundred bucks. But, seriously, you don't know these chicks. They're all on a new diet every Monday and eating chips and cake again by Thursday. Except M1. I've seen her lose hundreds of pounds in the 25 years I've known her. And I've seen her regain hundreds of pounds + forty. Poor M1. It comes off but it never stays off. But when she gets it into her head to stick to a plan, she sticks to a plan! She'll probably win this thing.

xoxo