I always dream of getting good stomach virus to kill my appetite. It never happens. I get colds and sinus infections forcing me to stay in bed, watch TV and eat. Poor me! Some sort of something has invaded my nasal cavity and it aint pleasant! I'm fat, ravenous hot and sweaty. Bad combination all the way around. Good thing you can order Papa John's from your bed! To top it off...I turn one year older tomorrow....lovely! Every year I say, " I definitely won't be fat by my birthday next year." Yeah, I can't back that up. Fat seems to follow me. Perhaps I can blame my enabling husband. That sounds like a plan. There's always my Mother. She sent me $50 to go out for dinner on my birthday. Thanks Maa! Enabler #2! You should have sent me a gift card to the fat farm! Enablers come out of the woodwork around birthdays. Even work isn't safe. Just the other day this lady at work told me I looked skinny. Perhaps we should all avoid her Optician!
I'm a Libra. In an odd twist of fate my Zodiac sign is a scale! Doomed from birth I suspect. I do like everything in balance. Can't just have a sandwich...gotta have the fries. Can't just get the fries...gotta dip em in ranch. Once again I could go on all day. As of tomorrow I will have spent 36 years complaining about my weight and doing exactly nothing about it. That must qualify me in the Guinness Book of Fatties somewhere. Every year (on my birthday) I ask my mother what time I was born. I suppose I'm hoping to prolong the misery. Every year I get a slightly different answer. Sort of like when I ask who my father is. I am the only documented redhead in the clan. That alone is cause for suspicion. While she is still claiming it's Gerald, she can't be trusted. He often looks at me funny. I know what he's thinking. I know one thing for sure...Mary Nell is my mother! She likes to think that's bcs we look like sisters. That makes her happy...fine. That's not where I was going....I was going with the food hoarding and the hour glass figure thank you very much!
When next I post I will be a year older and none the wiser. At least I now have an outlet for my fat deposits. I appreciate you "listening" to my rants. I will leave you with the best thing about birthday's...CAKE. If the husband fails to produce the cake, I will divorce him. Amen
What the hell is a Sister in Fat? It's a bond uniting women everywhere. The inner fatty living deep within all of us. She convinces us supersizing is acceptable as long as we wash it down with a Diet Coke. Here at SIF we celebrate "New Me Monday" EVERY Monday, eat lunch at high noon and hide food from those who judge us. It's not about size sisters. If you have an inappropriate relationship with food and obsess over weight loss/gain...you ARE a SIF! Welcome Home!
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