Waist Management….

This ain’t a good time to write about this. Longabout a year ago, our company had the Biggest Loser contest. I’m sure I’ve boredya before – I won. After three months, $100. And another six months, $200. That’s $14.26 per pound I got paid to lose. Farm out.

Ahem… Now. I’m “back in the saddle again.” Or, halfa that crap has come back… Worse – seems I don’t really givea rats.

Insomnia has seen us all watch the 3am “ab ads”… “Just two payments of $19.95 and you too can look like Jennifer Aniston (or Roger Federer)”…. Enter “snore” here.

I LOVE eating. I LOVE eating (close your ears) crap. Candy. Chocolate. Donuts. Potato Chips. BBQ. Juicy burgers. Pie. The sweeter, the better. Gimme a bun honey, or a honey bun…

In dinosaur days, I was kinda-sorta athletic. You know. You stared at the mirror and a “V” looks back at you. Well. Today. I turn sideways, and see nuttin’ but’ta “D”.. I dunno, mebbe looks more like a small “b”.. or “d”, pendin’ on which way I’ve turned!

Darnit. WAIT! I gotta look good for my woman! I can’t fo’eva and e’er get undressed with the lights out. Uh oh. Forgot I ain’t gotta woman. Would you mind passing me a nuther snickerdoodle? Thanks!..

Crunches. Crunches, to me, are like Amway meetings, Time Share speeches, any Country music radio station, traffic jams, fingernails on chalkboard. You get the idea. I know they work, but I hates ‘em. Usedta do ‘em in sets of ten because I abhorred them so. Haha. Got that all figured out now.. Just don’t do ‘em!

Bellying up to the bar is easy now! Apathy? What apathy? Ok. I do care what I look like. I am concerned with what others think.

At present, however, junk is winning out. The last two weeks of December were simply heavenly for a glutton such as I. We work with companies allover the world, and daily, with the mail would come these marvelous, gummy, gooey, slovenly niceties from this country, that country. I. Me. I, am exactly six steps from the counter where they’re all placed. You can see the path I’ve worn in the carpet back and forth.

Selfish. I’m in the selfish mode. Pardon me. Sometimes life is just about being selfish. As in, “who cares if these 36’s are a little snug? That “300 burger” from the Bowling Alley was THE BEST!.... I’ve been, the biggest winner.

One day, I promise, I’ll get back in the ‘other’ selfish mode. I’ll eat salads and chicken (thank GOODNESS I love chicken) and get back to the weight I was when I was the biggest loser. I’ll renew my membership at the Community Center. Skirt past all the dudes with the rippling muscles. Take my fat ass to the elliptical machine. “Stroll” for 25 minutes or so (yes, probably eyeballing Heidi Homemaker all the while.. Spandex, u gotta love spandex.)..

Then I’ll hit the weight machines. Sore. Next day I’ll be sore. Get up. Do ‘em all again.

I toldya about the time soon after whatshername rode off on the Harley – I’d proudly bought my Community Center membership… Visions of sugar plums and shapely broads as I finished my workout – headed for the Jacuzzi.. There, surely they’d be in their bikinis. Tanned. Taught. Yummy.

Well.. did the first part. Worked out. Stared at Heidi. Hurt. Cursed (under breath.) The DREADED crunches. Whew! A hunnerd. That’s it! No more……………….

The stroll… the stroll to the Jacuzzi. Aha. Fifi will be there. Greta.. Alana.. Oops. It was the Senior Citizen Water Aerobic class just finishing up. I found myself with seven 250 lb+ ladies twenty years my elder. Served me right I spose. Opal. Gerta. Gladys. Damn daddy. Some kinda stimulus package(s)….

I’m taking an abdominal vacation. Presently “who cares.” The ups, downs, in’s/out’s of life. I am the biggest loser, and the biggest winner. Later baby. I found 73 cents in my other coat, I’m headed for the snack machine. Bottoms up! Bellies out. Love, Victurd.