Lately I've spent a ridiculous amount of time obsessing about my fat ass. I bought new jeans about 2 weeks ago and it was the first time in about 12 years that I had to go up a size. It really depressed the hell out of me. I can deal with being fat, but I'm having MAJOR issues with getting fatt-er. Nothing seems to fit right. I think I need to be measured for a new bra size. It's killing me.
I tried to tell Josh about it, but he's not feeling me. Said he didn't want to hear me bitching. What the hell? Bitching is what I do best. Fat people aren't feeling my pain. The one person who actually let me rant and made sense is skinny. (Like FOR REAL skinny, not just comparatively speaking.)
And I know that I need to eat right. I know that I need to excercise. I know cookies and coffee shouldn't be breakfast. I know I shouldn't eat out as often as I do. I know I know I know!
But it's hard forming new habits. I'm trying, but I still forget. I had a salad yesterday, but when my coworker took me out to lunch, I sure did order the chicken fried steak. Then I got back and cursed myself and I've been sitting here feeling guilty for the past 2 hours.
I've never actually been on a diet. I've seen other people diet and lose weight and plump back up. I don't want to diet. I want to get to the point where eating right becomes second nature. That's step one...but it seems step one is almost a story tall and I have short little legs. (jump, cynthia, jump)
I keep thinking about how I used to do my Richard Simmons everyday. That box is so dusty now, I probably couldn't read the title. Juana and I used to go walking. I'd be out of breath and sweaty, but it felt good. Juana is good for motivating my fat ass. She's also evil enough to take away my tortillas. (Remind not to sit by her on vacation) I'm gonna have to do one or the other or both.
Now I don't know that I actually want to be skinny, but I'm definitely through with fatt-er.
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