a literary observation (lyn)

Brown-tinted snow in heaps along the edges of the roads.  Passable sidewalks.  Busses now in service.  Huge puddles of mush at every corner.  The city is back to normal.  I haven’t been to a Weight Watchers meeting in a couple of weeks, so this morning I decide to go.

When I was in college, I read The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde.  I remember loving the book.  It’s about a young man who sells his soul in exchange for eternal beauty.  A portrait of him, however, does age, and reflects the young man’s sins.  Over time, as the young man engages in increasingly bad behavior, the picture of him becomes more and more disfigured, although he remains beautiful.

When I step on the scale this morning at Weight Watchers, I am 121.8, up only 1.4 pounds from where I was two weeks ago when I last weighed in.  In that time, I’ve eaten homemade blueberry muffins, real movie theater popcorn, chocolate mousse cake, lasagna, a half-pound burger and fries, penne, steak, chocolates, cookies, and a host of other equally unfriendly foods.

Somewhere there must be a portrait of me getting fatter and fatter.