Ever play a game as a child and call for a “do over”? You know, restart the game at the point where you made a mistake? Pretty sure I need a do over with this whole getting fit and healthy situation. To start this new journey, I decided to team up with a few of my friends with one common goal: to not be fat girls anymore. Not such a bad goal. We figured we could at least be each other’s cheerleaders if nothing else. Despite my big pink cheerleader bow I sometimes wear, I have never been a cheerleader. I could never picture myself in shorty shorts or skirts that let your labia hang out. I mean, what kind of panties work with those outfits? Pretty sure that would involve a thong and we all know my run in with those. I really don’t feel like digging around in the fat rolls for my panties. So nope. Not gonna be a real cheerleader. Just a cheerleader of weight loss.
In taking this new step, it made me weigh in. Gross. Can I state again how much I dread and hate the scale? But there I was, on December 1, naked and making sure I had pooped, stepping on that damn thing. 218. Not too bad. Guess my body, despite how my pants are fitting, just likes to stay above 200. I don’t want it too any more. How can I coax it to get lower than that without drinking stuff that tastes like ass? I guess I could try and coax it down with the promise of new clothes since I love to shop. Shopping is my favorite pasttime besides eating and reality tv. Maybe it would work. I can try anyhow. It would be better than licking a cat’s butt for sure. Although my cat doesn’t seem to mind the taste of her butt. What is that about anyways? I don’t think I would like it if I had to clean my butt by licking it. Plus, pretty sure my stoob would get in the way if I tried. Go ahead, try and reach your butt with your tongue….bet you can’t do it. Just saying.
I also have vowed to eat healthier and get back into this whole excercising thing that I started. Sigh. That will require me getting off my flass and actually becoming a raccoon. Today I managed to workout by shoveling again but couldn’t hate the plow guy cuz he never came all day. Bastard. Not once. Poop on him. I even ate a salad for lunch at work. I made good choices! Well, ok so the other selections in the crapeteria looked like dog vomit but I could have gone to the grill and gotten a hamburger or something and I didn’t. I don’t understand why a hospital that has both a cardiac program and a bariatric one can’t serve healthy options for meals. Maybe they are trying to get us employees into their programs. Fattening us up like cows for the slaughter. Because it’s not enough that we pay forty cents an ounce for dog barf and tubes of meat. Ew. Enough said. In this new leg of this journey, I shall take you dear readers after I retrieve my thong from the ceiling fan once again. Damn thing just likes to swing up there like I live in a strip club. Sigh.
Oh yeah. I didn’t die today. I shoveled snow and ate salad and contemplated how to lick my own butt but didn’t die. I am fat girl with new resolve and a thong hanging from the ceiling fan running. The experiment continues….