Thursday October 1, 2009

I have a new friend.  His name is Sir Weighty.  Whilst I’ve known him for a very long time (I heard once that he was there at my birth), I’ve never been particularly close to him.  I’m getting close now!  Oh boy am I!  I fully expected him to taunt me with the mockery that only cold white metal can offer, but alas, he flashed his ebony blacks on the screen today with another 219.8.

No, I don’t want to be at 219.8 all my life.  I don’t.  But I can take it for a few days/weeks if necessary.  Furthermore, I am having trouble keeping up my jeans.  So, I grabbed a tape measure and pulled the waistband away from my body.  I measured.  SIX FULL INCHES!!!  Well, actually, I think it was more, but I couldn’t hold the pants out, hold the measuring tape, pull on one, hold on the other, and keep my pants up at the same time.

I have to buy more clothes.  I can’t wear those for much longer.  I spent all day hiking them up and while that does add a few more calories burned—the up and down motion of the arm and such, it’s really too much of a hassle than the couple of calories are worth.  To illustrate how loose they are, I stood in the bathroom, arms straight out to my sides (remember how much BIGGER my hips are than my waist) and twisted at the waist until the pants fell down.  Five twists and they puddle around my ankle.  I’d wear a belt but the dumb things don’t have loops.  I’m going to do some adjusting tomorrow.  I can’t risk the um… catastrophe that could occur if I jumped up and down for joy.  EEEK.

My father called today.  Now, anyone who knows me knows how much I HATE telephones.  Despise them suckers.  So, when I’m on the phone, in order to avoid saying insipid things that show how miserable I am, I try to clean.  Today I cleaned a LOT in the kitchen.  I scrubbed door jambs, the stove, the sink, the counters, the lids of my cloth and towel containers, the surface of the cabinets, the shelves, the appliances, the window sills… let’s just say I CLEANED.  The stupid kitchen is still not spotless, but it’s mucho bettero.  (That’s Kevin’s pidgin Spanish for those who might misunderstand and think that I am foolish enough to consider that an actual word.)

I ate leftover chicken salad, a chicken sandwich from Burger King, and pizza for dinner.  I’m dying for some spinach.  I think I’ll have that tomorrow and a V-8 before bed.  Water.  I’m guzzlin’ the water.

I fully expect to get very little done tomorrow.  I’m feeling under the monthly weather and miserable.  But, I can fold laundry, put it away, make the bed, and write and edit.  That’ll have to do.

Hasty la visty.  Can’t wait for my date with Sir Weighty.