Monday mornings. You gotta love them. Used to be in my younger days, I dreaded Mondays because I had to get up early and go to work after I had spent the weekend partying into the wee hours. These days I get up still complaining about the aches and pains just without the partying.
Today I get up early, thinking I need to get laundry done and get busy on this week’s to-do list. Some of you may remember my blog on the underwear episode entitled “Wal-Mart Discriminatory Labels”. My boyfriend Kenny has since decided to nickname me “El Grande” as a joke. It is no longer a damn joke.
As I gather up all my laundry and set it aside, I start looking for a clean pair of jeans to put on. I knew the jeans I had bought upon my arrival here in December were already too small, because I had been sickly and skinny after surviving the horrors of Hurricane Sandy. So the 30-inch waist is out. I pull on the 31 inch, managing to get them up to my butt…just not over it. Fine no problem…next comes the 32-inch waist. I manage to pull them up over the butt AND get them buttoned; I just can’t bend or breathe.
Oh HELL NO! The only thing left is a pair of ratty, torn 33 inch Levi’s I use as “coveralls” when doing garden or dirty work in. Aaannnndd of course they’re dirty. SOB (Strap On the Biscuits)!! Now I’m sitting here in sweats, waiting on the laundry to get my only pair of fitting jeans done, wondering how did I get to this point??
True, there were little clues along the way, the fact that I quit wearing the 30-inch waist after the Christmas holidays being one. Another was the “El Grande” comment from Kenny. The entire month of February saw me taking steroids to get rid of a serious case of bronchitis and a sinus infection. Steroids always expand my waistline. I chose to ignore the fact that the 32’s were causing me breathing problems LAST month. So today I sit here looking to place blame.
Renee Fowble DID warn me they were going to fatten me up once I got back to Oklahoma. I believe they have accomplished their goal! As I was leaving Sunday to go out to dinner with Kenny (yes something else deep fried), I was complaining to Renee and Randy how totally UNCOOL it was to be gaining so much weight. I had a doctor’s appointment Saturday and weighed in at 142 that’s 12 pounds I’ve gained in the last month. I grabbed the new roll I have hanging over my jeans and shaking it at Renee and Randy scream “THIS IS NOT COOL”. In unison they replied, “In Oklahoma it is!”
I get no sympathy from Kenny either. He’s pleased that some of the weight has found it’s way above the waistline too. Damn boys, give them boobs to look at and they lose what’s left of their minds, and he’s already BLONDE.
I’m thinking the blame goes to Renee and Randy for constantly poking food at me; Randy is always cooking up something good. And of course, Kenny the Blonde taking me out to eat something deep-fried almost every night.
This certainly cannot be blamed on my new habits of lemon cookies at 4am, or the morning pop tarts I have. Hey, writing causes you to work up an appetite at strange hours. Maybe it’s just karma paying me a visit for calling my cat Simon, The Fat Bastard all the time.
One thing is for sure, springtime better hurry up, so I can go bicycle riding while my butt still fits on the seat. Guess I’ll change my diet too, just as soon as I finish the peeps and chocolates I bought for Easter treats. My birthday is the 14th, this Thursday. All I want is bigger jeans and some will power…which do you think I’ll get? Until I get to go riding again, guess I’ll continue living up to the “El Grande” title.