I’m fucking fat.

Yes, I’m fucking fat. Yes, fucking, was a necessary adverb. And yes, it’s all my fault.

I’ve never been so fucking fat in my life before. I’d like to take this opportunity to make a list of countless excuses I have used and said to myself to justify the ballooning of my midsection. 

1. I don’t have time to meal prep.

2. Healthy food is way, totally, oh-my-god more expensive than junk food. 

3. I like my food like I like my sex – Fast, easy, and to the point. Ain’t nobody got time for romance or fancy dinners while you’re running around with kids ALL DAY AND NIGHT. 

4. I’m poor. I can’t just dump out all my bad foods. What the hell would I eat?

5. I’m tired.

6. I’ll start after my birthday/anniversary/holiday/random party/every weekend… 

7. It’s Friday.

8. Ice cream and chocolate are the only treats I can afford.

9. The toddler is throwing a fit.

10. The toddler is crying.

11. The toddler is itchy.

12. The toddler requests her breast. Yes, I still breast feed. Sue me.

13. The toddler is finally napping.

14. The toddler woke up.

And the list can go on and on… 

I need to do something, quick. I can’t keep letting myself go. 

And before any wrong ideas start brewing in your head I am not fat-shaming. I am self-shaming. 

The end. 

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s