Me & The Neverending Weight Obsession Extreme Ramble-Fest

Okay, you might not know it by looking at me--but I'm a little weight obsessed. I know, you would think if I cared so much about my weight I would be health conscious, fit, or have a non-dormant eating disorder. But that's just it, I care about my weight--but only enough to obsess over the thought of being chunky, not really do anything extreme about it.

Don't get me wrong, I exercise and try to eat somewhat healthy--but both of those I do inconsistently. I will go through periods of time where my eating habits are really great, or borderline anorexic, either way during those periods of time I am watching what I eat. I also go through periods of exercise. In fact, I just got done doing an hour of Just Dance. Yes, I know, there are newer version of the game out there, but I don't update my technology all that often. In fact, I am typing this blog on a Datapoint 2200.

Recently, I took a trip to my home state for a couple of weeks and during that time I, of course, fell out of any healthy semi-routines I had been doing. In fact, I acquired another bad eating habit on the trip--I started drinking sugar free Red Bull. I know, you're thinking, "Okay Ms. Edgy-Edger-Pants, drinking Red Bull is not really bad." Okay, I know it's not bad, but it's really not good for me--right? I mean, I can tell by the way it makes my heart flutter like a bird in a bread basket that it's probably not what I should be drinking. Want to know why I moved to Red Bull? Because, Starbucks coconut frappucinnos are choc-full-o-fat. Okay? I replaced a fat habit with a heart attack habit. At least I won't be contributing my hard earned money to those greedy Jewish capitalists at Starbucks anymore...like I care. Anyway, now there are empty cans of Red Bull rattling about on the floor of the back seat in the car, because at least I care enough to think about recycling. THINK about it.

By the time I had returned home from my trip, my jeans were fitting a little snugger--and to this day, they still are. In fact, last Sunday afternoon I was taking a nap and the waist of my pants was digging in to my newly blossomed gut. I thought for a moment that if I undid the button on my pants, I would feel much better, but then I realized if I unbuttoned my top button, that would be acknowledging the fact that I have mini-muffin top. Instead, I pulled my pants up higher up past my belly button. The resulting wedgie was much less painful than the muffin top torture. I slept soundly for about 37 minutes. It was great.

One of my tactics during a time of weight gain is to avoid the scale. I don't know where or why I acquired this tactic, and needless to say it doesn't help the problem at all. When I had gotten home from my trip I weighed myself and realized that I had gained almost four pounds. After avoiding the scale, I gained two more pounds. Obviously scale avoidance isn't working. On the other hand, when I am doing well with my weight management, I will weigh myself an unhealthy amount of times throughout the day. I have gotten better with this number obsession over the years, which is to say I now weigh myself less than half-a dozen times a day. I know, it's stupid, but you are wasting your day reading blogs about weight, so what does that say about you? Just kidding. You're not stupid. I love you and so does Jesus and his harem of angels.

Anywhooooooooo, just thought I would get this weight thing off of my chest, butt, and thighs for a moment. Like I said, I played Just Dance for an hour, and I'm going jogging this evening, so as for exercise I'm on the right track. However, I did eat chicken enchiladas with sour cream, a few salt water taffys, a white chocolate macadamia Cliff bar, and a peach...so far. Time to moderate the eating too, I guess.

I was telling one of my friends the other day that I needed to hit the gym because I was pudging up. She was so nice to tell me that she hadn't noticed, and that it was probably water weight. See, that's what really good friends do--they tell you it's water weight. Even though it's obviously coconut frappucinno ass.

Love,
Charise