I will openly admit to being obsessed with my body image. I have this ritual every morning that involves a thorough self-evaluation. Recently, I have upgraded myself from ‘fat’ to ‘almost not fat.’ I can’t say that losing weight changed anything about my life (In fact, I think I grew more boring somehow and I date less. It’s weird, really.), but due to the ritual, it’s important that I stay ‘almost not fat.’
I didn’t want to worry about what I ate over the holidays, so I didn’t. This morning as I performed the ritual, I was suddenly gripped with the fear that I had somehow gained back every one of the pounds I had lost. Lucky for me, the scale relieved that worry.
In a happy place, I pulled on an older pair of pants, now about 2 sizes too small, per my efforts. As it was cold and I was running late for the train, I thought not a bit more about my looks until later that morning.
I walked down the same hall where just weeks ago I had had a Susan Powter moment where I stopped to verify that my thighs no longer touched as I walked. But today, it suddenly occurred to me that my ‘fat’ pants were hugging my body. My stomach sank. My ritual had failed me. Despite all my efforts, those pounds had reappeared.
There wasn’t much to do about it but feel depressed. As I often do when I want to be depressed at work (I excel at my job and am known for my “happy, carefree attitude and positive outlook.”), I headed to the private bathroom. I walked in and prepared to have a really good pep talk to restart my dieting efforts. The door closed and I performed the necessary butt check.
I was right. The pants were stuck to my body. I reached down and tugged them off my thighs. The crackling sound lifted my mood. It was true. The fat pants were form-fitting today. That’s what happens when you forget the fabric softener.
Looking further down my legs, I discovered that my pants were glued about ¾ of the way up my calves as well. I couldn’t help myself. I giggled. Then I laughed. Finally, I went about my merry way. I had never realized what a crisis static cling can be!
9 comments:
happy ending!
I was gonna join in about how today I was trying to buy a skirt which just pear shaped itself around my *ahem* ample hips for "no apparent reason" and how I consoled myself by hitting new zealand natural and getting a double scoop in a cup.
but now I'll just say, static cling is indeed problematic.
congrats on beating holiday bingeing. that must've taken EXTREME will power of GLO-rific proportions, which I don't have.
Well, I celebrated by buying one tiny little package of Christmas Oreos. I can't resist them. They're so festive! (And not so much willpower as taking long walks along the San Diego beaches. Hardly a sacrifice and good for the waistline!)
Co-worker: So, Glo - what's up with the special anti-static shoes?
Glo: Alternative diet / weight-loss program. Kind of seasonal but it works great!
Weight loss and dieting in the holiday season is unfair and impossible.
More chocolate, please!
glo, REAL people's thighs touch each other.
but i feel you on the just-out-of-the-dryer panic.
you deserve a brownie.
Static cling eh? I'm glad it's something like that.
And yay to you for all your hard work...nice feeling, isn't it?
Usually static gets on my nerves so much I'd be ready to rip the pants off there and there but in the situation you just described, hell, I'd go around with a grin on my face too. =D
And I have a tendency to show people fat / cellulite. Like we'd be sitting there, suddenly I'd reach out my arm and twist it and go "look. can you look at that?" and then I'd cause a chain of people sticking out their arms and twisting to get that rippling on the underside of the forearm.
I hate the hair static more though.
Now I maybe totally misreading this but I'd have to say if my 'fat' clothes had enough static cling to and hug me like I hadn't lost weight, I'd probably be getting electrocuted evertime I touched anything metal. You're obviously well grounded :)
i wanna lose weight.. i wanna lose weight... wanna share some secrets?
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