Let's face it! Nobody likes the obnoxious chick who constantly whines about how fat she is. I get it, I really do. There have been people in my life who have complained about their weight over and over and I want to kick them in the taco *Cough* My 85 lb mother in law who tries to play the i'm fat routine so you will compliment her. But, i'm going to be that chick today who complains because i'm frustrated and depressed about my weight and I either write about it here, or I go polish off the rest of that chocolate birthday cake that's sitting on my kitchen counter.
Last night before my ritual evening bath, I made the crucial error of stepping on the scale. I was naked so I guess I naively figured that the gigantic plateful of Chinese food I had for dinner, or the large mocha and two (okay 3) pieces of chocolate cake I had wolfed down after dinner wouldn't be noticeable. I was wrong. I looked at the number, gasped, and jumped off before it could climb any higher. Then I heffered myself into the tub, curled up into a ball and bawled my eyes out.
My hubby came in to see what the problem was. He's your typical "Quick fixer" kind of guy. I love him, but he always has to fix everything. Sometimes there are things that just don't have a quick fix. Sometimes I just need to cry. Sometimes I just need to pout. Sometimes I just need to be angry. Sometimes I just want to be left the hell alone!
This is the conversation that took place:
J: What's wrong?
Me: No answer.
J: Babe! What's wrong? Did you cut yourself shaving?
Me: Shook my head no as I was thinking, "Shaving? Does he really think I do this? Can he not see my scary white tree stump legs with black hair on display under the fluorescent lighting?
J: Did you get soap in your eye?
Me: Shook head no again as I was too upset to speak.
J: Well then WHY are you crying? WHAT is wrong? WHY wont you talk?
Me: I'm…..i'm…..i'm faaaaaaat (as my voice quivered and shook)
J: Eye roll. Babe you're not fat. You just haven't been eating very good lately.
Me: That's a polite way of telling someone they're fat.
J: No it's not. We both could probably stand to lose a few pounds. I'll do it with you. We'll get in shape together.
Me: Seriously thinking of getting out of my warm tub to punch him square in the jaw as my husband has never had a weight problem in his entire life. Nor has he had 5 babies or gotten a Depo shot that suddenly made him balloon up and gain 30 lbs in less than 3 months.
After my bath I tried to calm myself down, but I was still feeling sad, hopeless, and defeated. I know you're reading this right now and waiting for the big inspirational, motivational, turnaround. You want to hear that I had this magical, lightbulb up my ass moment and realized that it's not about the number on the scale but what's on the inside that counts. Fuck that shit!
This is what my dear old supportive, "We're going to do this together" husband brought back from the grocery store after my hysterical bath tub breakdown. You be the judge of his sincerity. Mmmm hmmm. I'm waiting…...
Okay so the chocolate cake we already had because it was my son's 16th birthday, but he just HAD to bring home a brownie and a box of giant blueberry muffins! What the hell? Does he think blueberry muffins are healthy because they have freaking blueberries in them? Seriously? So guess who's been stuffing themselves silly all morning. See the finger marks on the chocolate cake where the big frosting blops used to be? Yep, all me. ALL me, bitches. Cause i'm a fatty boobatty and apparently stayin that way. Oh and just for shits and giggles, I woke up with a heinous red, puffy, rash on my face above my upper lip. You know the kind of rash where people look at you with disgust and think, "Who in the hell has she been sucking face with lately?" Yeah. Thank you autoimmune disorder for choosing this day to flare up. I appreciate you making me feel like a fat AND ugly troll.
So for those of you who really do need to lose some weight or really are fatty boobatties like myself and seriously lack the motivation to actually lose the weight (and don't want to hear any inspirational, rainbows up your butt, mumbo jumbo or snarky judgment about how you just need to eat better and exercise and the weight will just melt right off), this post is dedicated to you! Let's whine together in the safety of our own kitchens, while stuffing our faces with chocolate cake and muffins.
And if you need more bathroom talk, don't forget to buy your copy of I Just Want to Pee Alone today!
Last night before my ritual evening bath, I made the crucial error of stepping on the scale. I was naked so I guess I naively figured that the gigantic plateful of Chinese food I had for dinner, or the large mocha and two (okay 3) pieces of chocolate cake I had wolfed down after dinner wouldn't be noticeable. I was wrong. I looked at the number, gasped, and jumped off before it could climb any higher. Then I heffered myself into the tub, curled up into a ball and bawled my eyes out.
My hubby came in to see what the problem was. He's your typical "Quick fixer" kind of guy. I love him, but he always has to fix everything. Sometimes there are things that just don't have a quick fix. Sometimes I just need to cry. Sometimes I just need to pout. Sometimes I just need to be angry. Sometimes I just want to be left the hell alone!
This is the conversation that took place:
J: What's wrong?
Me: No answer.
J: Babe! What's wrong? Did you cut yourself shaving?
Me: Shook my head no as I was thinking, "Shaving? Does he really think I do this? Can he not see my scary white tree stump legs with black hair on display under the fluorescent lighting?
J: Did you get soap in your eye?
Me: Shook head no again as I was too upset to speak.
J: Well then WHY are you crying? WHAT is wrong? WHY wont you talk?
Me: I'm…..i'm…..i'm faaaaaaat (as my voice quivered and shook)
J: Eye roll. Babe you're not fat. You just haven't been eating very good lately.
Me: That's a polite way of telling someone they're fat.
J: No it's not. We both could probably stand to lose a few pounds. I'll do it with you. We'll get in shape together.
Me: Seriously thinking of getting out of my warm tub to punch him square in the jaw as my husband has never had a weight problem in his entire life. Nor has he had 5 babies or gotten a Depo shot that suddenly made him balloon up and gain 30 lbs in less than 3 months.
After my bath I tried to calm myself down, but I was still feeling sad, hopeless, and defeated. I know you're reading this right now and waiting for the big inspirational, motivational, turnaround. You want to hear that I had this magical, lightbulb up my ass moment and realized that it's not about the number on the scale but what's on the inside that counts. Fuck that shit!
This is what my dear old supportive, "We're going to do this together" husband brought back from the grocery store after my hysterical bath tub breakdown. You be the judge of his sincerity. Mmmm hmmm. I'm waiting…...
So for those of you who really do need to lose some weight or really are fatty boobatties like myself and seriously lack the motivation to actually lose the weight (and don't want to hear any inspirational, rainbows up your butt, mumbo jumbo or snarky judgment about how you just need to eat better and exercise and the weight will just melt right off), this post is dedicated to you! Let's whine together in the safety of our own kitchens, while stuffing our faces with chocolate cake and muffins.
And if you need more bathroom talk, don't forget to buy your copy of I Just Want to Pee Alone today!
