This Post Contains More Expletives Than Normal
Valentine's Day irritates me.
This year is no exception. I started my period. I haven't finished my infamous yearly mixed CD for the occasion. The new blogger hasn't let me on to post in days. I started my period.
And unecessary personal barriers were crossed at 6:20 a.m.
Now, I love Mickie (my daughters' spunky 68 year-old nanny) but she is about as subtle as a telephone pole up against the side of your head. She has always "carefully alluded" to the fact that I am overwieght.
"I bought you some of this fantastic non-fat calorie-free yogurt if you would happen to like some for breakfast!"
"I noticed that you didn't have anything to make a salad with, so I just picked up some ingredients. Salads make a great light dinner, don't you think?"
"You need to count your blessings. At least you have your health - for the most part."
I normally just play dumb and ignore her, but when she brought up the fact this morning that "she" wanted to go on a diet and was wondering if we couldn't share in making lowfat (but tasty!) meals to share - it was just too much.
I'm not much of a team player. Over-analyzation of anything makes me feel like poking my left eye out with a large rusty nail. Most things have beautifully simple answers that people tend to muck all up with their logic.
"I feel that I am overweight because I am afraid to let anyone be too close."
"I was never taught portion control."
"I don't have time to exercise."
In reality, eat less - exercise more. Anyone on God's green earth can do that if they want to . And to be perfectly honest, I'm not all that into it right now.
I feel like I have pulled my shit together in the last few years. I have worked on moving up in my work. I make sure my family is happy. My free time is spent doing things that I love.....or laundry. I am a fucking happy and well-adjusted person, dammit. I just eat more chocolate than most people.
It utterly amazes me that so many people personalize my adipose tissue and make it their problem.
My Mom constantly talks about "We need to get our weight under control."
When the hell did my weight become OUR issue?
If I happened to notice that someone that I knew had....say...a small penis - I would not think it was a good idea to say something like...
"Hey, I don't have a penis. I've always wanted one, though. I was wondering if I bought one of those penis enlargement pump things if maybe we could work together to try to enlarge our....well, you know,... our package. What do you think? It would be fun!"
Or...
"I noticed that you seem relatively stupid. I was thinking that it might be a good idea for us to take some community college classes in, let's say, Math 101? Or maybe Grammar? I always feel more supported when I do something like that with someone else."
Here's the thing. I'm fucking awesome. I have great kids. I would venture to say that I am somewhat witty and fun to be around. I have good morals. I practice good hygiene.
So, please...back the fuck off and just let me be happy. When I feel like I want to do something, trust me, I know what to do.
Labels: Inappropriate Anger