Good Afternoon Blog Spot Land!!
Today I actually got a little writing done. If you want to call 300 words writing, but hey, after a torturous two weeks of suffering writer's block and extreme depression I consider this to be a success. The glass ceiling was slightly by-passed today, even though my ceiling is more like petrified crap, flaking it's disease all over my motivation.
I have ingested half of a 16oz Red Bull and a bag of peanut butter M&M's and I'm feeling like I could walk on water right about now. Or I'm having a silent heart attack, either way it's sure to be a good time.
So, today much like the days before, is about the same. A mirror if you will, of time repeated unto itself. I'm still chubby, my diet tanked and my home life, well, there isn't much to say about that except that I'm definitely going to grab another Red Bull before the days end.
I'm going to a wedding tomorrow where two people I don't know will join lives forever. Normally, I hate attending these sort of functions because the whole time I'm making bets with myself on when the day will come when the bride will look at her shiny clean groom and wonder what the hell compelled her to marry him. But this isn't why I'm bringing this up. Last night I went shopping to prepare to look decent at the wedding. I bought a "Suddenly Skinny" fat re-tractor tank top to wear under my clothes. I tried it on last night for about 20 minutes. After I peeled it off it felt like my pancreas was pushed up into my lungs slowly making it's way into my esophagus. It was painful and left an unhealthy squished feeling.
I began to inspect the "directions" for this tourniquet of death, when on the label I spotted that there was a skinny model wearing the shirt. That's right, skinny. Why is she wearing it? She's already skinny.
A chub like me puts it on and the title of the garment magically becomes "Suddenly 20% Skinny." What happens when a thin beautiful girl puts it on? They are now "Suddenly Anorexic." Which I will never achieve in my lifetime. I could very well have been born and raised in Narnia with the odd shaped body that I have been blessed with.
They should at least make an effort to put a "big" girl on the label. Then maybe when someone like me is looking for a self esteem boost I won't feel like such a stuffed sausage when I see a super model wearing the same item I just bought.
Realistic logic tells me that if there was a monstrously obese diva sporting the tank on that dreaded label, I would have said something to the effect of "If she can wear it, I can too." Sold. Customer for life. But now, when I wear that top, while my organs painfully shift I will only think of that cute little model on the front and how much I want to hunt her down and set her on fire.
Have a good weekend everybody! If I don't post anything next week it's safe for you to assume that I died of internal bleeding.