It's been a stressful couple of days. With my audit in progress and the other daily tasks, I've been a little tense. That's probably an understatement. The situation hit it's climax early on today when I had to send an announcement out advising the employees of the audit and how it effects them. I sent the email and walked away from my desk. I needed a cleansing breath and to touch base with my pal Valerie. I get down to her desk and I'm feeling stressed. People are stopping me and asking me about the email. I'm trying to remain calm. And then I hear the song that almost created the perfect storm. Free Bird. I stopped and listened for a moment. The scene from Forest Gump where Jenny is on the ledge considering jumping played through my mind (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xsqDaTWgtp0 here it is, in case you don't know it). I thought, that is exactly how I feel right now. I had access to a ledge, the song was already playing, I just needed to remove my bra, put on a sparkly top and some platform heels and I could totally recreate that. I mean, I would be "fat Jenny, " but I could still make the scene work. Hey, I might not do cocaine, but I do chocolate and I think that is pretty dangerous, too. Anyway, the moment passed and I decided to just go back up to my desk. Chocolate was waiting for me there.
When I arrived back to my desk, I had about 20 emails waiting for me asking about the audit. I expected as much. Heavy sigh. Then, my boss comes walking out of his office with a box of donuts. He puts them on my desk. Apparently High Heel Barbie brought them in for his birthday today. Yeah, we don't want the birthday boy to get fat, better put them on the fat admin's desk. So, I did the only thing I could do, I ate one.
It wasn't long after the donut incident that it was time for lunch, so I opened my salad and tried to eat it. I just sat there and stared at it. No lard, no carbs, no sugar...it was all natural. How do I eat this with the taste of lard and sugar lingering in my mouth. I took a bite. The spinach leaves taunted me with their unsatisfying spinachy taste. At that moment, I hated spinach. I hated everything it stood for and I wanted it to taste like jelly filling. No amount of fat girl hallucinations could make this happen. I ate half of my salad and then gave up. I wasn't really hungry anyway.
Soon enough it was time to have my weekly appointment with Dr. Feel Good. Did I mention Dr. F-G is tall and skinny? I hate her guts and everything she stands for (that's the cranky fat girl talking...I don't really hate her). I arrive and I sit down on the most uncomfortable couch, EVER. I think she found it with a FREE sign outside a frat house. Seriously, if you are charging $265 an hour, freaking buy a couch. I mean, I don't pay her that, thanks to insurance, but if I was paying cash, I'd be mad. I'd want someone giving me a massage ( NOT Rainbow Brite) and a pedicure while we talked about my feelings. Anyway, she asks me how the last week went. I start to tell her about the ice cream bar incident over the weekend. She is looking at me nodding sympathetically like her body even knows what ice cream is, whatever, anyway, she keeps looking from my face to my belly. What the hell?! You'd think her Ph.D would have taught her not to stare at fat girls' bellies! I thought she was a trained professional. I felt like my belly was the white elephant of the room. I mean, it kind of was, I was wearing a white tank top under my button up shirt, that didn't really button and I was sitting on this broke-dick couch that forced my belly out. That's right, I said, "forced." I can't control that thing. Even when Ass Kicker tells me to suck it in, you can't tell. Somewhere deep inside I might be sucking it in, but the outside is clearly defiant, but I digress. Dr. F-G listens and then continues to give me insightful advice like, "don't eat while watching TV...don't eat a donut just because it's there." I mean, really deep stuff I would never have thought of myself. She is a genius.
As I sat there, I thought, can I really be helped by a 7 foot skeleton with skin? What does she know about weight loss? She is probably one of those people that struggles to gain weight. But then again, if I had some fat lady telling me how to lose weight, I think I would be pissed. Look fatty, if you have all the answers, why are you still fat? I'm kind of stuck in a quandry. Maybe I need to see an average sized person that isn't too pretty, but not too ugly. Not too nice, but not too mean. Not a leather couch, but not a futon either. I don't know. I don't want to give up on Dr. F-G yet, but I can't help but think that she hasn't reached me yet. As I was getting ready to leave her office, I was thinking, "I wonder if Ambular has a good pot-luck today?" and "I bet I could make it to Baskin Robbins and still get back to work on time." I think this is going to be a long process.
I got back to work and talked to Angry Stallion and he told me all about what it means to be mentally unstable and how they test for it. I think I need some tests done because as soon as he was done, I walked over and checked out Ambular's potluck. In my defense, I did take a moment, like Dr. F-G said and I did think about whether I wanted the cookie or not. Turns out the answer was yes, and I took a couple because correct me if I'm wrong, if one cookie is good, then three are awesome. It's like Forest Gump said, "Me and Jenny was just like peas and carrots again..." This is how I feel about chocolate chip cookies.
This is why my appointments with Dr. F-G are weekly. I can't be left unattended. I guess I'd better pitch in for a new couch, since clearly, I'll be putting some miles on that piece of crap.
When I arrived back to my desk, I had about 20 emails waiting for me asking about the audit. I expected as much. Heavy sigh. Then, my boss comes walking out of his office with a box of donuts. He puts them on my desk. Apparently High Heel Barbie brought them in for his birthday today. Yeah, we don't want the birthday boy to get fat, better put them on the fat admin's desk. So, I did the only thing I could do, I ate one.
It wasn't long after the donut incident that it was time for lunch, so I opened my salad and tried to eat it. I just sat there and stared at it. No lard, no carbs, no sugar...it was all natural. How do I eat this with the taste of lard and sugar lingering in my mouth. I took a bite. The spinach leaves taunted me with their unsatisfying spinachy taste. At that moment, I hated spinach. I hated everything it stood for and I wanted it to taste like jelly filling. No amount of fat girl hallucinations could make this happen. I ate half of my salad and then gave up. I wasn't really hungry anyway.
Soon enough it was time to have my weekly appointment with Dr. Feel Good. Did I mention Dr. F-G is tall and skinny? I hate her guts and everything she stands for (that's the cranky fat girl talking...I don't really hate her). I arrive and I sit down on the most uncomfortable couch, EVER. I think she found it with a FREE sign outside a frat house. Seriously, if you are charging $265 an hour, freaking buy a couch. I mean, I don't pay her that, thanks to insurance, but if I was paying cash, I'd be mad. I'd want someone giving me a massage ( NOT Rainbow Brite) and a pedicure while we talked about my feelings. Anyway, she asks me how the last week went. I start to tell her about the ice cream bar incident over the weekend. She is looking at me nodding sympathetically like her body even knows what ice cream is, whatever, anyway, she keeps looking from my face to my belly. What the hell?! You'd think her Ph.D would have taught her not to stare at fat girls' bellies! I thought she was a trained professional. I felt like my belly was the white elephant of the room. I mean, it kind of was, I was wearing a white tank top under my button up shirt, that didn't really button and I was sitting on this broke-dick couch that forced my belly out. That's right, I said, "forced." I can't control that thing. Even when Ass Kicker tells me to suck it in, you can't tell. Somewhere deep inside I might be sucking it in, but the outside is clearly defiant, but I digress. Dr. F-G listens and then continues to give me insightful advice like, "don't eat while watching TV...don't eat a donut just because it's there." I mean, really deep stuff I would never have thought of myself. She is a genius.
As I sat there, I thought, can I really be helped by a 7 foot skeleton with skin? What does she know about weight loss? She is probably one of those people that struggles to gain weight. But then again, if I had some fat lady telling me how to lose weight, I think I would be pissed. Look fatty, if you have all the answers, why are you still fat? I'm kind of stuck in a quandry. Maybe I need to see an average sized person that isn't too pretty, but not too ugly. Not too nice, but not too mean. Not a leather couch, but not a futon either. I don't know. I don't want to give up on Dr. F-G yet, but I can't help but think that she hasn't reached me yet. As I was getting ready to leave her office, I was thinking, "I wonder if Ambular has a good pot-luck today?" and "I bet I could make it to Baskin Robbins and still get back to work on time." I think this is going to be a long process.
I got back to work and talked to Angry Stallion and he told me all about what it means to be mentally unstable and how they test for it. I think I need some tests done because as soon as he was done, I walked over and checked out Ambular's potluck. In my defense, I did take a moment, like Dr. F-G said and I did think about whether I wanted the cookie or not. Turns out the answer was yes, and I took a couple because correct me if I'm wrong, if one cookie is good, then three are awesome. It's like Forest Gump said, "Me and Jenny was just like peas and carrots again..." This is how I feel about chocolate chip cookies.
This is why my appointments with Dr. F-G are weekly. I can't be left unattended. I guess I'd better pitch in for a new couch, since clearly, I'll be putting some miles on that piece of crap.
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