Finally, it’s spring again, and I can open the windows and let in the fresh air. My screenless window would explain the fly on the wall that I had to whack with a rolled up newspaper. But the fly was the lucky one, killed before he had a chance to suffer. Because what else does springtime bring? The annual warm weather clothes try-on extravaganza. Oh, the horror.
In the last couple of years... how do I put this delicately...? I’ve porked up. The baby weight isn’t an excuse anymore, seeing as how I lost it sometime in the blur that was my second daughter’s first year of life. This weight is new and fairly inexcusable, unless you count my need and I call it a need to roll out the good chocolate a couple times a week.
My newfound poundage has had one advantage. Apparently, once you pass a certain age and a certain weight, no one really looks at you. I used to put on makeup and decent clothes when I went out of the house. Now it’s a good day when I brush my hair for a run to the store. Maybe no one ever really cared, but now I can tell no one cares. It has totally taken the pressure off.
Of course, aside from the whole health/self-esteem issue, the one clear disadvantage of my new body is this seasonal clothes change. I bring out my spring clothes, which include the clothes from sizes past, and mourn. I try things on. I look in the mirror. I turn and look at my butt in the mirror. I swear a little. I move on to the next item.
The lavender sweater still fits, as long as love handles are in style this year.
The black pants will be great for work today, as long as I’ve decided firmly against breathing.
The short skirt is perfect for a going straight from work to out-on-the-town, as long my work is as a streetwalker.
I tried to use the book and DVD Walk Away the Pounds, thinking that if I didn’t get the exercise I needed walking in place, I might just lose weight through the sheer force of Leslie Sansone’s perkiness. But then I wanted to spend my extra half hour a day on this blog, and who’s to blame me? I hated sweating anyway. I know much could be resolved with those two important words, diet and exercise. But, somehow, I am not motivated. I prefer my own two important words, denial and elastic.
And as for the fly on the wall, he got off easy. Even before his short life ended, he had no concerns about his weight. After all, do you think flies are watching the carbs? “Oh, Myrtle, stay away from that cheesecake. It’ll go straight to your thorax.” Of course, it does keep the weight down when you are literally eating garbage, and McDonald’s aside I don’t think I can make that sacrifice just to have my own embroidered capris for spring.