Family, Food, Facebook, Fat, Fuck.

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Boosting morale and apparently also your dick

So, hey, Creepy Guy From Another Office in my Building to Whom I've Only Ever Said 'Hi' in a Small Talky Sense...

I have not "been on a diet."

I have not "lost weight."

I DO "look good," but it's pretty gross that you said ALL that while passing me in the hall. I realize I can't get you to stop appraising my body, but it'd be SUPER great if you could stop reporting your findings aloud.

Worse, I said "Thank you," because I'm an asshole, and am now wondering what kind of goddamn hambeast I looked like before. (I look fine, it's just my dress -- sundresses are very kind to my body.)

By the way, yes, I do think I'd be this pissy if it were an attractive man who said it. Because you brought my weight AND dieting into your "compliment," implying my weight until today had been somehow suboptimal. So fuck you twice-baked.

P.S. By the way, dicknuts -- depression, anxiety, and stress can also cause weight loss. In my case, so can being on drugs that screw with your appetite and hopefully prevent you from going crazy. But hey, I'm thrilled I'm able give you your Monday lunchtime semi. I'll go find out who I speak to about adding "fluffer" to my business card.

Weight Loss, Crypt Keeper, Trainwreck, Lipstick, and "La-di-da"

A while back I asked y'all to come kick me if I didn't lose some weight, because my clothes didn't fit anymore and I hate shopping.

Turns out all I needed was a (prescription) drug that fucks up my appetite and makes me so thirsty I drink tons of water and always feel full, plus family, friend, and boy issues. I'm running on bananas, almonds, and kettle chips because that's all my body is accepting.

I feel like hell, I get wobbly, and my face looks like The Crypt Keeper, but I lost 5 lbs in one spectacular shitshow of a week.

I spent most of the past 2 days in bed (took a sick day yesterday), but eventually getting up, cleaning my house, then cleaning ME. It's remarkable how an irresponsibly hot shower and clean sheets can improve your outlook. (Plus watching "Trainwreck" again.)

I am going to be fine.

We're good, now, right, Brain? My family is still fucked, but you'll let me pine for just the ONE guy (the one who's actually worth even a passing thought)? And my friends are OK? And we'll be more mindful of eating at least enough that standing isn't so challenging and daylight doesn't hurt our eyes?

Right, then. Onward. Lipstick. Sushi. Power song!

Cize it up, size me down.

I had a screening at work for insurance discounts, and I got 3 out of 4 of the available discounts -- I am too fat to get the one for healthy BMI. BMI is a bunch of bullshit, but OK -- mine is high, qualifying me as "overweight."

1. Fuck you, I'm adorable. In the words of Cher Horowitz, I'm "like one of those Botticelli chicks." (But certainly NOT a Monet.)
2. HOWEVER...it's getting cooler and I can't just keep wearing summer dresses and ignoring the fact that none of my pants fit.
3. I don't necessarily care that I'm size 14; I just care that all the clothes I own are a 12. I'll be goddamned if I'm getting dicked out of an insurance discount AND have to spend money on larger clothes.
4. Maybe I'm wasting money on therapy when all I need to do to fix a "mood disorder not otherwise specified" is have some at-home therapy with Shaun T​. (It's not, but it can't hurt.) (Also, mmm, Shaun T...)

I've resolved this here before, so if I don't report back soon that I am once again partying in my pants, I'm going to post my address here and one of y'all has to come bust my kneecaps. Deal? Excellent. Glad we had this talk.(As a bonus, if you break my kneecaps, I can't work out. See what I did there?)

P.S. This is going to blow numerous goats, because the weather is changing and pretty much all I want to eat is lasagna. I'm basically Garfield from November through March.