Day 76: Unfortunately, I'm Not Lactating.

Two days ago, I made a startling discovery.

I realized I'd been mistakenly restricting my Weight Watchers daily food points total to 26, when in fact, I was allowed 36. I'd been flipping through the handbook when suddenly, it jumped out at me like a neon sign: "Daily Points Target ... 200 to 224 pounds ... 36." I saw nothing else. I read nothing else. I absorbed this singular piece of information and ran with it. Phone calls were made. Blog entries were written. Food and drink were consumed.

Cut to this morning, when Jackie came home after a few days over at George's. I told her of my 36-point discovery (she hadn't read the blog in a few days), and she was skeptical. I kept right on babbling, talking about how I couldn't believe I'd been dumb enough to think it was 26 points, and how 36 points was so much more reasonable. All the while, Jackie looked dubious. I just kept on talking. I was going to get my red bookmark thingie. I hadn't even broken into my 35 bonus points yet. This wasn't so hard after all.

Finally, she couldn't take it any more. She wanted to see the chart. I immediately went and got the handbook, anxious to prove my point. She looked at it for maybe 5 seconds before bursting into laughter.

"Karen - this chart is for nursing mothers!"

My stomach sank. My mouth ran dry. A chill swept through my body. I grabbed the book ... Sure enough, there it was in plain English. Not only did it say "for nursing mothers" over on the left page, it told you (right under the chart) what to do when your baby started relying more on formula or solids.

I had to sit down. I couldn't believe it. I really was retarded.

Jackie took the book back and found the real points chart. "Daily Points Target ... 200 to 224 pounds ... 26."

As soon as I could stand up again - and Jackie's cackles from the other side of the house had subsided - I went to my Quick Trak points book and assessed the damage. I carefully (very, very carefully) did the math: 7 days at 26 points per day, plus 35 bonus points, equaled 217 weekly points. Luckily, I hadn't gone nuts after thinking I had 36 dailies, so I was still on reasonable ground with 202 points consumed so far. If I could make it through today on 15 points, I could still go to my Wednesday morning weigh-in on track. (Side note: Thank you, Jackie - thank you, thank you, thank you. If not for our conversation, I'd be truly screwed. Who knows how long my 36-point delusion might have continued?)

So - 15 points. That's all I had left. The only problem was that I was having lunch with Maggie, and there was no way I was going to cancel. I'd already told her in an earlier phone call about my points travesty, and while she agreed that I might truly be mentally challenged, she was also very supportive. She even relayed a story about her own tendency to rush through things and miss key information (Okay, so she was 16 years old in her story - at least she tried)

At lunch, I managed to get by on 5 points (lettuce with very plain chunks of grilled chicken), and afterwards, Maggie and I took a brief drive to be alone and have a more serious conversation. (Okay, to make out.)

Since we took longer than we should have, I offered to be dropped off a block or so from my car so she'd be pointed towards work. She'd been gone maybe a minute when I realized I'd left my keys in her car. I quickly called her, and was surprised at how well she took it. She came back ... but instead of just handing the keys over, she looked up and told me to get in the car. There was an urgency to her voice - and so, even though I was confused, I listened. I got in.

And then she started driving ... in the opposite direction of my car. The blocks flew past, and my eyes widened (she later told me I gripped the sides of my seat in sheer panic at the thought of such a long walk). I knew what she was doing - she was having fun ... and she was teaching me a lesson. A lesson in mindfulness. Had I left my keys in her car on purpose? I would say no, I had not. No way.

Then again, I'm also the person who managed to miss the words "nursing mothers" in fairly large, dark blue print. I've clearly demonstrated my tendency to see only what I want to see - to focus on that which benefits me (or pains me) to the exclusion of all else.

Maybe eight blocks from my car, Maggie finally pulled over and dropped me in front of a parking garage, where several of society's less fortunate were loitering. She was still laughing as she drove away (and, to be honest, so was I).

As I hiked back to my car (Maggie's primary interest, she told me later, was in jump-starting my exercise regimen), I thought about how my habit of not paying attention might be one of the core issues I should be examining. My mother's been calling me "oblivious" since I was a kid. George has been complaining about how I don't listen for years. I can't even begin to tell you how many things I've lost, forgotten, missed and willfully ignored over the years.

When Maggie called a few minutes later to check on me, I was still smiling. My mood, which had been good all day (despite the whole points thing), had gotten even better.

Just because something is embarrassing (okay, humiliating), that doesn't mean it can't be funny and thought-provoking.

Today, well ... today was most definitely all three.