The day before yesterday I left my parents’ country house and drove into the city where the first thing I did, as usual, was weigh myself. Way to ruin my day.
At least it’s blog fodder, I thought. I can write about how everyone always talks about how easy it is to lose weight in the summer – but I gain. I can talk about how everyone says living in the city is unhealthy, but the second I get to the country I stop exercising and get my very own suburban sprawl.
And then I paused – because something about it rang a bell. I felt like I’d written it before. You know why? I had. Twice, as a matter of fact.
Yes, it’s true. This is the third year in a row that I’ve been out in the country for the summer and gained weight. And it’s the third year in a row that I’m shocked, I tell you. Simply shocked! That such a thing could happen.
In a post called “My XL Problem with Suburban Sprawl,” I wrote about how much time I spent that summer sitting on my every-growing ass. In another post,(and another year) I wrote about how my parents meal-time extravaganzas had taken their toll.
And here I am, year three. Still surprised that it’s happening all over again.
What’s really shocking is my stunning inability to recognize the reality that driving everywhere whilst sitting on my ass + eating big meals + not owning a decent scale = Love handles and a lovely double chin.
Oh. And back fat. Gotta love the back fat.
You know the funny thing? I went shopping yesterday and bought a pair of pants…in a size eight. Size eight? ONE of my ass cheeks is a size eight right now. Vanity sizing is NOT helping me. It is just deluding me into believing that I am still – 7.5 pounds later – a size eight.
Maybe I should put on a bathing suit and look in the mirror.
That should be a reality check.
And if I faint from the reality – don’t wake me up. Maybe I’ll lose a few pounds if I stay unconscious through a meal or two.