Yo-Yo 'Die'ting

There is a reason it’s called “yo-yo dieting.” You and everyone within screaming distance is on the yo-yo with you. “Yes!” you squeal to everyone within a city mile, “I lost 2 pounds!” Of course it’s just a drop in the bucket, but those are the days that everything is a celebration; the sun shines—even in Eugene—the mirror and camera are your best friends and you can’t seem to wipe that grin off your skinny mug. These are the days when walking the dog and those incessant salads with the disgusting dressing are worth every bite. You dress in your “pretty” clothes and want to go anywhere there are people so you can show off the rewards of your efforts. You are on top of the world—uh, yo-yo. Your every move you make exudes excitement, even your voice is smiling. When you call to take care of that overdue credit card bill, Miss Creditor can’t help but smile (she’s probably really laughing at you). She ends up grinning from ear to ear when her boss walks by. He gives her a huge raise and a promotion and she goes to her favorite diner and buys everyone there free dessert. See how those two pounds you lost in Eugene affected all those diners in Alabama?

Days later, “I am never going to lose weight!” warbles across the countryside. Cows stampede in and effort to escape the sound. Well, of course that makes the farmer mad because now he has to go fetch all his cows and fix the rails in his fence—again. He storms over to Home Depot to get more fence materials. As he contemplates putting in a cement wall (of course they would probably just hop the fence anyway), a helpful, smiling employee approaches, “How can I help you?”

“I don’t need any help—thanks. Unless you want to build me another new fence and round up my cows for the third time this week.” The sarcasm he spews at the helpful young man burns like acid. Well you can just imagine how helpful that employee is now. He spends the rest of the day bellowing at customers and “mini-van momming” his forklift. Although this may seem like rock bottom, alas, the yo-yo has not even hit the ground.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHHH I GAINED—AGAIN?!!!!” you shriek. This is the “earth shifting” that seismologists across the planet record. Yup, it’s the gravity pull at rock bottom. This is the day that the fat clothes come back out of the bottom of the closet. The smoke from your nose and ears creates a near eclipse and you flatten foliage and small animals with your laser-splitting glare. Your husband and children run for cover at your first breath. Ironically, this is also the day that you are supposed to go be a teacher-aid for your child’s class. He begs you to be sick or dead or anything—just please don’t come to school—especially not in those holey, mustard-yellow sweats. You go anyway, because it’s your “duty.” Your glare pierces the innocent children into a comatose state and the teacher nearly goes bald from the poison you spew every time you breathe. The principal comes in to see how the day is going and instantly melts with your ultra-laser. He scuttles back to his office and immediately cancels recess for the rest of the month, which is probably good because by now there is no sunshine anyway. He then proceeds to fire four of the lunch ladies for making spaghetti and chicken nuggets yet again, then nobody gets to eat anything. That’s fine with you since you have been eating nothing forever anyway trying to get rid of this “bowl full of jelly.”

There are millions of “weight-loss” websites but of course there isn’t one that offers advice on how to break away from the tidal wave of emotions. All I can say is good luck and enjoy your barrel rolls.