This is all Neil's fault. His "Bloggers with Biceps" campaign has driven me to admit that instead of deporting my expat fat, I've once again extended its visa by 30 days.
Yesterday I volunteered at Field Day and had lunch with a bunch of nice, friendly school moms.They all ordered garden salads for lunch. I ordered a cheeseburger smothered with onions and some fries. I tried to convince myself I should be proud of my refusal to succumb to group peer pressure and savor my American independence, but secretly I was ashamed of breaking ranks with the healthy salad-eaters. I know better.
The truth is, I have been living on the DARK side--chocolat noir has me under its evil spell. I have been walking 45 minutes to an hour, four to five days a week, but all routes lead back to the kitchen. Unless I walk AWAY from the Cote D'Or truffe noir and lift something heavier than a box of Godiva, all my exercise is in vain. I have got to pull myself together!
You know the stereotype of the vulnerable middle age woman--lonely, bored, and easily seduced? It's (gulp) all true. Last week all the flirting in the grocery store led to a one night stand--with a bag of Doritos. I woke up in the morning with puffy eyes and a bad taste in my mouth. Where's my self respect? My moral backbone? My waist?
Hopefully not lost forever. I'll go searching for it, I promise--after the bagel orgy.
Copyright 2006 Veronica McCabe Deschambault. All rights reserved.
June 13, 2006