Every Time a Snowflake Falls, I Grow a Bigger Ass

There are things they never tell you – probably because you wouldn’t have believed it at the time anyway. One of these things is the existence of the secret programming housed within your very being that has predetermined your butt to start growing once you reach your late 40s. I’ve been fighting science for about the past 2 years and losing ground every day. Days like today don’t help: I can’t get out and exercise when it’s 10 degrees and snowing. I can feel the pounds settling on even as I sleep.

Of the many things I’ve been trying to come to terms with lately, weight gain is a big one. It’s not the biggest or the most important, by any means. But I feel like I’m in some time-lapse-slow motion horror film in which this fat blob slowly encases my body. That’s how I picture it. It started just above the knees and it’s TRYING to get all the way up to my chin. I am literally fighting for every inch. I’m trying to maintain the territory but this blob keeps encroaching on lands formerly held solely by me. If the fat makes it all the way to my chin, how will I live with myself? I’m already alternating between disbelief and disgust on a daily basis.

To say I will not go gently into that good night is an understatement. I have been bitching, moaning and wailing about this for the past two years. I am shocked! I am consternated! I am aghast, appalled, astounded, amazed. I have forsaken bread. I rarely eat chocolate (shocker!!) anymore. I don’t snack. For every tiny step forward I make, I go back 3 steps (lbs). It’s horrible! And it’s not just my butt, actually. It’s the arms, the legs, the MIDSECTION – hence the term “Middle-Aged” I suspect.

Only 27 more days to go…………..I think I’ll go make some popcorn……………………………………