Grocery stores’ junk-food displays are untouched.
If you’re looking for SlimFast or Nutella or Special K bars, fuh-get-about-it. They’re sold out. But Oreos? Cheese-Whiz in a can? Little Debbie Valentine Hearts? In stock and a-plenty. And – just some advice – you should go ahead and stock your pantry and your bomb shelter with the fatty food while it’s available. Come February? All those I’m-gonna-be-frickin’-Gisele-Bundchen-by-summer crazies will be Black-Friday-ing it up for some powdered doughnuts and tubs of cookie dough out of sheer deprivation.
Now I’m hungry.
The park’s running trail is congested by a herd of cattle.
Figuratively, of course. And by no means am I referring to the actual size of the runners because, let’s face it, who am I to make fun of large people? But seriously. The gravel running path is always. completely. packed. What do these people do for a living? Why aren’t they at work at 9am? Or 2pm? Or in bed at 11pm? In fact, I’ve almost caused numerous fender-benders along the park because I like to stare at the runners as I drive past. And sometimes (just sometimes) I even judge them. Nice outfit, I’ll say to myself in regard to the dude running in jeans or the girl jogging in flip flops. And then I take another bite of my Little Debbie Valentine Heart and keep driving.
The treadmills at the gym have a waiting list.
Look. If I’m getting up at 5:30am to be at the gym by 6 (and that’s a big if because it’s really never happened), then I don’t want to wait on your size-2 butt clad in a brand-spankin’-new Victoria’s Secret PINK workout outfit to not jiggle when you walk off the treadmill. I just don’t want you to be there in the first place because, honestly, why are you here? You have a full face of makeup on. And your hair is flat-ironed. With a poof. Here – have a Valentine Heart.
Everyone is drinking (or trying to drink) 8 glasses of water per day.
And now I have to wait for you to get out of the bathroom because you’ve nearly drank yourself to a bladder burst. Drink some chocolate milk. That’ll stop you up.
Too much?
People all around you order salads at restaurants.
I mean, thank you, I guess. If the chefs are just throwing some lettuce and a few veggies on a plate for you, it really shouldn’t take too long for my extra-loaded cheese fries and my double-decker burger to be ready.
(In all honestly, I never order cheese fries. Evan says they’re too fattening. And I’m certainly not going to eat them if he won’t.)
And let’s get real. There’s no way you’re going from Ben & Jerry a pint at a time pre-New-Year’s to a toddler’s portion of rabbit food. It ain’t happenin’. You have a secret stash of Swiss Cake Rolls in your nightstand. And what are you going to do when someone finds the 32 Twinkie wrappers you’ve stuffed between the couch cushions? Just order the cup of loaded baked potato soup with extra cheese, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!
It would make me feel better about the seven Little Debbie Valentine Hearts I just ate.
I’m starting something new….need to get healthy and get this FAT off of my!!! Pray for me!!!
I need to. Obviously. I just wrote an entire post about Valentine Hearts. Good luck! Maybe I’ll get motivated soon.
Love it. Love it. Love it. and I love that you refer to us, as “large” people. So polite.
Considering I, myself, have been called “a whale,” I would certainly never make fun of someone for their weight. I purely meant the herd reference to explain the mass amounts of people. I’m not that mean.
So, I want to eat the eighth heart. That’s mostly what I was thinking during this post.
Other than that, I can only fit in 64 oz of water IF I have lemon in it. And it’s on my desk. And I have time when I am not grading papers or telling them to “concentrate harder because that map of West Virginia is not as funny as you have been making it for the past ten minutes.”
Huff.