Apparently, I was a lot more fun when I was fat.

I just overheard one of my coworkers saying that I wasn’t the same person I used to be. She said, “She’s so strict about her food now! Carla doesn’t cook for potlucks anymore, she won’t go to lunch with us… damn! If losing weight means you lose all your friends, what’s the point?”

You can’t see me, but I am laughing my ass off right now.

First of all, this chick isn’t my “friend”. I don’t have “friends” at work – I have people that I work with. Some of them I like, some I could care less about, and none that I speak to outside of the office. This woman falls into the “I could care less about” category, so the fact that she doesn’t like my new-found discipline doesn’t phase me in the least.

Secondly, my real friends understand where I’m going. They have their instructions to kick me in the butt if they see me eating something off-plan, and will happily do so at the drop of a hat (actually, they are a little TOO gung-ho about that prospect). My attitude towards them hasn’t changed – I’m the same fun-loving, wise-cracking, movie enthusiast I have always been. I’ve just shifted my focus a bit.

I think there are always going to be people who don’t understand the path, but their feelings don’t concern me. Sometimes I can get a bit hermit-like in order to keep my focus on my weight loss, but my people understand that. My social life used to always be centered around food – meeting friends for dinner, catching up over coffee (and a muffin), brunch with the girls. Food, food, food. I can’t do that anymore, at least not in the same way I did, but my true friends know that and are supportive of me.

My coworkers are a constant source of hilarity. I could write blog posts for days on the things they say…