The worst part (thus far) about weight loss.

*Warning: rant ahead.  Proceed at your own risk.*

Uuuummm, so  why doesn’t anyone talk about the downsides of losing weight?  Maybe because the good outweighs the bad? (no pun intended).  But, seriously, I am freaking annoyed.

I have this frenemy.  She comes to visit whenever she’s least expected. She makes my stomach hurt. She makes me moody.  She makes me crave sweets.  All I want to do is eat. anything. that’s. sweet.  She makes me put the fruits of the spirit into practice. The one that she usually has been “helping” with is self control.  (This could be a good thing but, I don’t want to think of it that way while I’m ranting).

I should’ve known she was coming because all week all that I have been wanting is caramel and whipped cream.  I thought that it was my rebellious spirit acting up (which, unfortunately, is quite normal).  Especially since I’m cutting down on sugar.  But, no.  That was way too simple.

I woke up this morning feeling like crap.  I didn’t want to exercise because I was feeling like crap but, I was freaking hungry!  I ate and was full and I still sat around for a little bit.  As I sat, my stomach started to feel better.  “Oh,” I think to myself, “I think I’ll wog intervals this morning since I’m feeling better.  Walk a minute run a minute for 40 minutes.” 

I get dressed and go out and I’m on pace for 4.2 mph!  Pretty impressive, if you ask me.  Then, I spot a coyote.  All of my survival skills fly out the window and I start walking.  My 4.2 mph will not keep my from being mangled by a coyote.  And I really don’t want to die that way.  I end up walking behind the coyote the rest of the way home.

You may be wondering, “why not take another trail?”  Well, I have a terrible sense of direction.  I get lost going to work if I take a different route.  One night, I went for a walk after I put meatloaf in the oven.  I could walk for about 60 minutes because that’s how long it would take it to cook.  I had been walking for about 40 minutes when I realized that I had no clue where I was or how to get back to my house.  I started panicking because I just had visions of the meatloaf exploding and my neighbors’ houses getting burned down all because I took a walk and got lost.  I’m not joking.  And then there was that time that Jen and I were hiking on a well known trail and we got lost…scary.

Back to the point.  I came home and started feeling sick again and I said to myself, “Why, why, why didn’t anyone warn me about this?”  So far, I’m down about 17 lbs.  My friend has come to visit right on time two months in a row.  I.am.not.happy.  I wouldn’t be sad if we only talked every few months.  Seriously.  We have nothing to talk about.

period-comic

“Monday, March 05, 2007
An Open Letter to James Thatcher, Brand Manager, Proctor and Gamble

Dear Mr. Thatcher,

I have been a loyal user of your Always maxi pads for over 20 years, and I appreciate many of their features. Why, without the LeakGuard Core™ or Dri-Weave™ absorbency, I’d probably never go horseback riding or salsa dancing, and I’d certainly steer clear of running up and down the beach in tight, white shorts. But my favorite feature has to be your revolutionary Flexi-Wings. Kudos on being the only company smart enough to realize how crucial it is that maxi pads be aerodynamic. I can’t tell you how safe and secure I feel each month knowing there’s a little F-16 in my pants.

Have you ever had a menstrual period, Mr. Thatcher? Ever suffered from “the curse”? I’m guessing you haven’t. Well, my “time of the month” is starting right now. As I type, I can already feel hormonal forces violently surging through my body. Just a few minutes from now, my body will adjust and I’ll be transformed into what my husband likes to call “an inbred hillbilly with knife skills.” Isn’t the human body amazing?

As brand manager in the feminine-hygiene division, you’ve no doubt seen quite a bit of research on what exactly happens during your customers’ monthly visits from Aunt Flo. Therefore, you must know about the bloating, puffiness, and cramping we endure, and about our intense mood swings, crying jags, and out-of-control behavior. You surely realize it’s a tough time for most women. In fact, only last week, my friend Jennifer fought the violent urge to shove her boyfriend’s testicles into a George Foreman Grill just because he told her he thought Grey’s Anatomy was written by drunken chimps. Crazy! The point is, sir, you of all people must realize that America is just crawling with homicidal maniacs in capri pants. Which brings me to the reason for my letter.

Last month, while in the throes of cramping so painful I wanted to reach inside my body and yank out my uterus, I opened an Always maxi pad, and there, printed on the adhesive backing, were these words: “Have a Happy Period.”

Are you fucking kidding me?

What I mean is, does any part of your tiny middle-manager brain really think happiness—actual smiling, laughing happiness—is possible during a menstrual period? Did anything mentioned above sound the least bit pleasurable? Well, did it, James? FYI, unless you’re some kind of sick S&M freak girl, there will never be anything “happy” about a day in which you have to jack yourself up on Motrin and Kahlúa and lock yourself in your house just so you don’t march down to the local Walgreens armed with a hunting rifle and a sketchy plan to end your life in a blaze of glory. For the love of God, pull your head out, man. If you just have to slap a moronic message on a maxi pad, wouldn’t it make more sense to say something that’s actually pertinent, like “Put Down the Hammer” or “Vehicular Manslaughter Is Wrong”? Or are you just picking on us?

Sir, please inform your accounting department that, effective immediately, there will be an $8 drop in monthly profits, for I have chosen to take my maxi-pad business elsewhere. And though I will certainly miss your Flexi-Wings, I will not for one minute miss your brand of condescending bullshit. And that’s a promise I will keep. Always.

Best,

Wendi Aarons
Austin, TX”

The open letter is from Wendi Aarons’ blog.  She puts it so candidly.

My sentiments exactly (minus the profanity).

 

sam

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