"Blahdee blah blah...and during the summer, when people eat less...blah blah blahdee blah..."
I missed that memo.
Do you eat less in the summer?
Maybe it's true?
If I do eat less, it is certainly not a conscious choice. If I do eat less, it certainly does not mean I eat better. There's a lot of ice cream and cereal involved. And strangely enough, I really get in the mood for chowder during the summer...which is basically just fat, cream, and potato. All fabulous choices. Plus, now I've decided that I cannot live without Drumsticks
So that's good.
I feel fat.
Every time I feel this way, I think back to being 13 years old and those adolescent boys and the drive-by mocking of my mass.
They win. I give up.
I AM fat.
They didn't know my name, so they called it like they saw it.
"Hey, Fat!" to be precise.
No "Hey Blimpo...too many twinkies!"
Or "You're so fat, a picture of you would fall off the wall!"
No insults to go with the Name.
That is sad.
Fortunately, it was the only time in my life someone has insulted the pudge.
Well, today I feel I'm living up to the namesake so sensitively bestowed upon me by those ruthless little snots.
I wish I wanted to be on a diet. It doesn't sound fun. DIE-t. Die. Death. Horribleness. The end. Nobody wants that.
I want a lifestyle change...
I don't want to sweat so much.
Is it just me? Or is anyone else sweating as much as I am this summer?
"You know, when you're a fat guy you don't need a reason to sweat. Guys come up to me and go 'Jeez... what have you been doing - jumping rope in the attic or something?'...'Umm, no... I peeled an orange... about an hour ago. Why?'" --Kevin James
I echo that.
And it's not like I sit on my butt all day. I got a treadmill I use regularly. I only couch-potato it a couple days a month and on Sundays. But other than that...I move around.
So obviously, it all points to one thing. Genetics. (Ha! You thought I was going to say food, right? Well, you're wrong. After all, if you get shot in the leg, you don't blame the gun, right? You blame the Zoloft that the person was taking that caused them to shoot you in the leg. There is no place in this world for personal responsibility. As we've been taught by society.)
Yes, genetics. We're big people. Ask my family. We're made of flesh and big bones. We would make a really cool and scary gang. The Apple-Dumpling Eating Gang! I'm pretty sure my family can beat up your family. Plus, you know, it makes it nice that I'm not an island of lard in a sea of a skinny.
You just can't fight genetics.
Being fat is not all bad.
When you're fat, in general, you don't have to worry about being abducted. I'm probably bigger than most kidnappers and they see me as way too much work. I appreciate that. I embrace that.
Also, being fat, you get free clothes. I get coupons all the time from Lane Bryant for free clothes. So there. Bet you don't get free stuff at your little Banana-rama-Republic-of-the-Waifs.
Another good thing about being fat...you got dibs on the thermostat. Your risk of heat-stoke outweighs the Skinnies' uncomfortable chill. (That's why cardigans were invented.)
Lastly, if we're ever on an uncharted island, with no hope of rescue....I'm going to live longer than you. Got my own built in food storage.
Come to think of it. I still would rather not be fat.
More on that another day.
I'm late for lunch.