I don’t know who I am these days. I have been married to the same man for over 30 years, and he thinks he has been married to the same woman for the exact amount of time. (You’re not going to believe this crazy coincidence: we both got married on the same day!  Just one more sign we were meant for each other.)

 

I have always thought of myself as a small woman with a talent for getting older. Although I have not always liked who I am, I haven’t doubted who I am. Until now.

 

We don’t have cable TV, partly because we don’t have that much time or interest, and partly because we are more interested in saving our money. But sometimes when I exercise on the treadmill, I go to hulu.com to watch a TV show or documentary on my laptop.

 

Hulu features hundreds of old programs and many episodes of current shows. I have walked through miles of Alfred Hitchcock Presents and the Alfred Hitchcock Hour, along with a lot of other shows. Sometimes I watch the ads; other times I take my headphones off.

 

Recently, while watching a show, a Weight Watchers ad came on. Jennifer Hudson smiled at me and belted out, “You are me and I am you.” I looked down at my plaid pajama bottoms and green sweatshirt, then looked back up at Jennifer in her form-fitting black top and tight pants, compared my clunky white running shoes with her open-toed stilettos, and said, “Okay.” I continued belting out that song, while Jennifer slogged forward on the treadmill, and then I disappeared. When the show came back on, we switched places again. It was weird, but then I’m used to weird.

 

                    

 

The other day, instead of Jennifer (who is me and I am her), a young blonde woman smiled at me and said, “I am you.” But before I had a chance to be her, a young brown-haired woman smiled at me and announced, “You are me.” That was beyond weird.

 

Needless to say it left me shaken, but not stirred. I feel like Jackie Chan in the movie Who am I? I sure hope I’m not him. I’m not up for all those action movie stunts.

 

I have to be one of four women, but I have no idea which one I am or which one is sleeping with my husband. Should I ask him? Should I contact Weight Watchers and ask them to send me home? Should I change my gravatar picture?

 

I had no idea that on Weight Watchers you lost not only weight but also your sense of identity. Will I have to join in order to find myself? I’m starting to miss me. Should I be alarmed that one of the anagrams for Weight Watchers is “Wager the Switch”? Or should I focus on the other anagram, “Great with Chews.”

 

I need help people.

 

 

 

(Note to Weight Watchers: I borrowed these pictures from your ad, and I’ll give them back in exchange for you know who.)