Ever felt grossed out? Maybe by watching some child pick their nose and eat it (pretty sure I just gagged) or by scene in a movie? You know the feeling. Today I got grossed out but not by anything but myself. I got grossed out by my fat rolls. Met BFF at the Y after work to get in some fat jiggling time on the bike and as I sat down I looked down. Gross. I could see every fat roll through my workout shirt and there they were starting with my boobs and ending at my thighs. I felt like a cartoon character of a fat girl. I even poked the offensive fat rolls to make sure they were real. Yup. They were. Gross. I had to turn my head and discuss something else with BFF so I wouldn’t be distracted by them. It was no use. It was as if they were talking to me. Trying to grab my attention. The more I ignored them, the louder they got. Like a drunk girl at a party looking for attention. “Hey! Look at me! I know you can hear me! You best be paying attention to me or I will get louder!” It was no use. I had to look again. Great. Now they were joined by the fat on my thighs that I am pretty sure moved in the opposite direction than the way I was peddling the bike. How is that even possible? I am telling you it is and it is like a car wreck that you can’t help but rubberneck as you drive by. I felt like that doll Stretch Armstrong that one of my cousins had when were were young. That the fat just goes its own way as opposed to staying where I thought it should be. I had to tear my eyes away from the physics defying thigh fat. And drinking a lot of water to flush out this infection didn’t help as I had to run to the potty twenty minutes into the workout. Ugh. I feel like a fat rolly can’t hold my pee girl. Not a great day for a fat girl.
I had to step back from this morning and realize that even though I am fat, I am trying. Its not an easy thing to remind yourself when you are having a fat day. Fat days suck. Its the kind of baggy clothing jeans several sizes to big wearing cuz you think you have gained that much weight overnight day. Every girl out there knows what I am saying. Even the skinny bitches. I resorted to the comfy college sweatshirt and jammie pants. Yup. I look hot. They don’t even match. Seriously. And yes, I admit the fact that I walked outside in this great ensemble of navy Cottey sweatshirt and bright red Mickey Mouse jammie pants and slippers to check my mail. My mailbox by the way is across the street not just at the end of my driveway. Oh and my hair was not brushed and swept up into a clip. Hot I tell ya. Makes me wanna shave my girl parts and go out looking for someone in this outfit cuz I am sure I am looking fine. Not only did I go to my mailbox in this outfit but then decided to pull some weeds on my way back. Seriously. What was I thinking? Pretty sure I would have fit into the trailer park at that exact moment. All that was missing was a cigarette dangling from my mouth and a beer in my hand. I actually contemplated running to go get some dinner dressed as I was. I am sure I would have fit in at Wal Mart. Sometimes I wonder about myself.
Oh yeah. I didn’t die today. I instead channeled my inner trailer park trash. I am fat girl having a fat day and looking like I need to go dye my hair bleach blonde and wear booty shorts and a half shirt. Ew. The experiment continues….