I woke up this morning to jeans that would not zip. Of course, this was the washing machine’s fault. Suddenly, after nearly a year of stellar service, that darned thing had decided to shrink my favorite pants.
And, um, my next favorite pants. And another pair. And another pair. In fact, that stupid washing machine shrank every single pair of pants I own. Even the ugly ones I haven’t worn in three years.
Oh, wait. The washing machine is a year old. The pants haven’t been worn in three years. Yeah. Possibly it wasn’t the machine at all, but me. Stuffing my face with…stuffing. And pie. And turkey. And steak. And green beans smothered in cream of mushroom soup and fried onions. And more pie.
Oh, and we did a trip to Florida over the holidays. We ate a few times at a place called Steak and Shake. Holy cow. It was like paradise with a side of fries. I didn’t think I could worship a burger more than I worship the burgers at Five Guys (or my guilty pleasure, Whataburger) – but as it turns out, I can. Anyway, we ate there a few times. Plus we ate Italian food. A lot of Italian food. And apparently we didn’t eat one veggie there, unless you counted the mushrooms on my burger.
All of that led to a massive ten pounds that attached itself to my already not-very-tiny butt. And it will not let go.
Clearly, I have overeaten. So I started a new exercise plan today. In fact, my first exercise of the day was to struggle to get my too-small jeans on, then lie on the bed, squeeze in my stomach and break a fingernail buttoning the button. Then I used a coat hanger to tug the zipper up. And for the cool down? I struggled mightily to actually sit up. And my reward for all that effort?
A very large muffin top that popped over my waistband and hung down so far it looked like I had an extra knee.
In case you were wondering, that’s not a good look for me. Or possibly anyone on the planet.
Of course, after that I released myself from my jeans prison and put on my sweats. Specifically, my very stretchy sweats. Now, this sounds like it’s comfy, right? Um, no. If anyone tells you that when you are too fat to fit into your jeans you should dress head to toe in spandex, they are lying. All that spandex clings to your fat parts and then rests in your butt dimples. And lets not even speak of the muffin top. Suffice to say that at some point, the muffin is permanent.
And I think I’ve reached that point.
So, because this is a very, very, very bad look for me, I am now on a diet. So yes, the blog is about to get very, very, very cranky. But at the end, it will be worth it. Because someday I want to wear spandex that doesn’t dig into my butt dimples.Add me to your rss reader | Become a Fan on Facebook!