I'm angry today. Mostly at myself, but also at a few others. Today's plan was to go to take Will in for a consultation with Dr. Food Nazi. It's time to stop screwing around with this diabetes thing and get it under control. I told Dr. Food Nazi that the reason for the appointment was to have a "come to Jesus" meeting with my husband. I don't want to see him coming home with any more empty Slurpee cups. The doctor has been helping me with my diet, so I'm hoping she can help Will.
On the way to the doctor, I wanted to stop and get some new lotion from Bath & Body Works, which is in the mall. First of all, I'm pissed off because all my favorite scents are either discontinued or only offered seasonally. Seriously, when is there a season that cucumber melon is not appropriate? It's a staple. But no, Bath & Body feels they need to try new scents. Look, I'm old and set in my ways and I have needs. In the spring and summer, I want cucumber melon and coconut lime verbena. Is that so much to ask? Apparently it is when you shop at Bath and Body. You bastards. I'll try your new coconut scent, but it isn't the same. And I'll wear White Citrus, but I'm not going to be as happy as if I was wearing cucumber melon! I don't know how I am going to get out of the bed tomorrow knowing that right out of starting gate any hope for fragrance happiness is diminished by a good 95%. You know, it is one thing to be fat, but sometimes, if you can smell good, people can at least think as they walk past you, "that girl needs to slow down on the donuts, but damn, she smells beautiful!"
So, I had my new lotion, I was ready to leave the mall and be free from spending and eating temptations. However, right across from Bath & Body Works is a new cupcake place called Bite Me. Will and I started to walk past it, but then we looked at each other and we knew we both wanted a cupcake. Cupcakes are not on my approved list of acceptable foods. The voices in my head (and there are many) argued, but I could tell Will really wanted a cupcake. This is the problem with us. We cannot be trusted. If one of us wants something, the other is pretty much powerless to say no. And, let's be honest, it isn't like I didn't want one. Two cupcakes and $7 later, we left the mall. Bite Me, indeed.
Once we got to the truck, we agreed, Dr. Food Nazi didn't need to know about the cupcakes. It was our secret. We drove to the doctor's office and everything was going according to plan. The medical assistant then advised we needed to take Will's blood sugar. Ut-oh. The jig was up. His blood sugar was 173. Dr. Food Nazi came in and asked what Will had eaten today. "Nothing, just coffee." I sat there nervously and looked down. Will and I couldn't even look at each other. We knew we were screwed and we both looked guilty as hell. Dr. Food Nazi looked very concerned and continued to question us. Finally, we caved and spilled the truth. We both got a stern talking to and a meal plan. By the time we left the doctor, we were both very clear on what the expectations were. And we were committed. We were going to get our crap together and get serious. I've been struggling to get back on track after the toe debacle, so this will be good when Will is on the same page as me. Right?
It was approximately one hour before the first major cheat occurred. In my defense, Will started it. We stopped by my Mom's house and there was brownies. Will started snacking on them. I called him on it, he was unaffected. So, then I had a small piece. The rest of the afternoon kind of followed suit. We are going to die young and fat. I think this much is clear.
So, as I sit here feeling bad and wondering why I can't behave I wonder if I should just get to that place where I just give up and let it be. What's wrong with fat girl pants, bat-wing arms, multiple chins, belly buttons that can double as measuring cups if you get in a bind, bad knees and a belly that you can sit your bowl on while you sit on the couch eating ice cream? What's wrong with a fat infested liver? What's wrong with an angry gall bladder? I could be one of those girls on the Tyra Banks show saying, "Big is beautiful! I got more cushin' for the pushin'! You skinny bitches are just jealous because of all these curves!" Or, I could be like the girls on the people of Walmart website, those people seem happy. Clearly, they are eating mac n cheese and they are living proof that chemicals and carbohydrates might not be healthy, but a person can survive...until they die. If becoming one of the people of Walmart is my objective, now that is an attainable goal. I can do that. I just need a thong, a unitard, crop top, flip flops, some hair dye, velour pants with the word JUICY across the butt and a scooter. I can even crap my pants (probably from too much processed food) and still speed across the store in my scooter and who is going to say anything? No one. Instead, I'll get my picture taken and get on the website as a person of Walmart and then I will know, I've finally made it. I've finally achieved my goal. And, Dr. Food Nazi did say that we could achieve our goals if we just set our minds to it. I remember her saying, "you can do this." I think that applies to so many situations. I'll just let her know I've changed my direction a little.
Here's hoping tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow, I will put on mediocre smelling lotion, wear jeans that fit and have my protein shake for breakfast and things will be better. And, if Will cheats, I'll punch him in the nuts.
The End.
On the way to the doctor, I wanted to stop and get some new lotion from Bath & Body Works, which is in the mall. First of all, I'm pissed off because all my favorite scents are either discontinued or only offered seasonally. Seriously, when is there a season that cucumber melon is not appropriate? It's a staple. But no, Bath & Body feels they need to try new scents. Look, I'm old and set in my ways and I have needs. In the spring and summer, I want cucumber melon and coconut lime verbena. Is that so much to ask? Apparently it is when you shop at Bath and Body. You bastards. I'll try your new coconut scent, but it isn't the same. And I'll wear White Citrus, but I'm not going to be as happy as if I was wearing cucumber melon! I don't know how I am going to get out of the bed tomorrow knowing that right out of starting gate any hope for fragrance happiness is diminished by a good 95%. You know, it is one thing to be fat, but sometimes, if you can smell good, people can at least think as they walk past you, "that girl needs to slow down on the donuts, but damn, she smells beautiful!"
So, I had my new lotion, I was ready to leave the mall and be free from spending and eating temptations. However, right across from Bath & Body Works is a new cupcake place called Bite Me. Will and I started to walk past it, but then we looked at each other and we knew we both wanted a cupcake. Cupcakes are not on my approved list of acceptable foods. The voices in my head (and there are many) argued, but I could tell Will really wanted a cupcake. This is the problem with us. We cannot be trusted. If one of us wants something, the other is pretty much powerless to say no. And, let's be honest, it isn't like I didn't want one. Two cupcakes and $7 later, we left the mall. Bite Me, indeed.
Once we got to the truck, we agreed, Dr. Food Nazi didn't need to know about the cupcakes. It was our secret. We drove to the doctor's office and everything was going according to plan. The medical assistant then advised we needed to take Will's blood sugar. Ut-oh. The jig was up. His blood sugar was 173. Dr. Food Nazi came in and asked what Will had eaten today. "Nothing, just coffee." I sat there nervously and looked down. Will and I couldn't even look at each other. We knew we were screwed and we both looked guilty as hell. Dr. Food Nazi looked very concerned and continued to question us. Finally, we caved and spilled the truth. We both got a stern talking to and a meal plan. By the time we left the doctor, we were both very clear on what the expectations were. And we were committed. We were going to get our crap together and get serious. I've been struggling to get back on track after the toe debacle, so this will be good when Will is on the same page as me. Right?
It was approximately one hour before the first major cheat occurred. In my defense, Will started it. We stopped by my Mom's house and there was brownies. Will started snacking on them. I called him on it, he was unaffected. So, then I had a small piece. The rest of the afternoon kind of followed suit. We are going to die young and fat. I think this much is clear.
So, as I sit here feeling bad and wondering why I can't behave I wonder if I should just get to that place where I just give up and let it be. What's wrong with fat girl pants, bat-wing arms, multiple chins, belly buttons that can double as measuring cups if you get in a bind, bad knees and a belly that you can sit your bowl on while you sit on the couch eating ice cream? What's wrong with a fat infested liver? What's wrong with an angry gall bladder? I could be one of those girls on the Tyra Banks show saying, "Big is beautiful! I got more cushin' for the pushin'! You skinny bitches are just jealous because of all these curves!" Or, I could be like the girls on the people of Walmart website, those people seem happy. Clearly, they are eating mac n cheese and they are living proof that chemicals and carbohydrates might not be healthy, but a person can survive...until they die. If becoming one of the people of Walmart is my objective, now that is an attainable goal. I can do that. I just need a thong, a unitard, crop top, flip flops, some hair dye, velour pants with the word JUICY across the butt and a scooter. I can even crap my pants (probably from too much processed food) and still speed across the store in my scooter and who is going to say anything? No one. Instead, I'll get my picture taken and get on the website as a person of Walmart and then I will know, I've finally made it. I've finally achieved my goal. And, Dr. Food Nazi did say that we could achieve our goals if we just set our minds to it. I remember her saying, "you can do this." I think that applies to so many situations. I'll just let her know I've changed my direction a little.
Here's hoping tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow, I will put on mediocre smelling lotion, wear jeans that fit and have my protein shake for breakfast and things will be better. And, if Will cheats, I'll punch him in the nuts.
The End.
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