Over the winter, here in the frozen midwest, many of us put on what I like to call "winter padding", which manifests itself on me as jiggly thighs and a muffin top. The theory is, if you have a little extra fat around the extremeties you'll be warmer on those coldest of days that would send anyone running for the nearest meatloaf. There's just something wonderful about comfort foods (and way more than is necessary) to make you feel cozy and warm all winter long. Unfortunately, the inevitable result leaves me standing naked in front of a mirror, shocked and horrified.
Why God? Why can't fried chicken and all things buttered make me thin? What is this test? Is not life hard enough without having to abstain from the pleasure of real food? I have spent the day today eating salad and whole grains and, while I am by no means hungry, it's depressing! And it wasn't a bad salad, on the contrary, it was delicious. But really, who cares about salad? Would anyone choose to eat it if everything else was as healthy? (I can hear Beth saying "I would" right now, but you're a freak, Beth. No one else would choose salad over (insert anything else here). Which is also why you look like Linda Hamilton in T2 and I don't.)
Jason and I have decided to have our own reality show contest. We've been watching The Biggest Loser and they're doing so well we figured we could lose a few pounds. So we've made a bet. We have 13? weeks to get to goal. Closest one wins a wardrobe. And by God, I am going to win that wardrobe if I have to eat my weight in parsley. But in the meantime, expect more angry diatribes.
Why God? Why can't fried chicken and all things buttered make me thin? What is this test? Is not life hard enough without having to abstain from the pleasure of real food? I have spent the day today eating salad and whole grains and, while I am by no means hungry, it's depressing! And it wasn't a bad salad, on the contrary, it was delicious. But really, who cares about salad? Would anyone choose to eat it if everything else was as healthy? (I can hear Beth saying "I would" right now, but you're a freak, Beth. No one else would choose salad over (insert anything else here). Which is also why you look like Linda Hamilton in T2 and I don't.)
Jason and I have decided to have our own reality show contest. We've been watching The Biggest Loser and they're doing so well we figured we could lose a few pounds. So we've made a bet. We have 13? weeks to get to goal. Closest one wins a wardrobe. And by God, I am going to win that wardrobe if I have to eat my weight in parsley. But in the meantime, expect more angry diatribes.
4 comments:
Um, Megan, why is there a picture of my @$$ on your blog? Gimmee back my muffin.
Ha! I like to think of that picture as "every woman's @$$!"
You are too funny! With this nursing diet I'm on, I am totally with you. Why God, Why??!!!!!
Hilarious. Maybe I should try eating my weight in parsley. Sounds healthy. LOL
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