Thursday, September 3, 2009
Yesterday I wore my fat dress to work. Ladies, you know what I'm talking about, right?
Almost every woman has a fat dress - an easy to wear, loose-fitting dress that doesn't hug you anwhere. We gals wear our fat dresses on days we are feeling, well, fat. Fat dresses are comfortable and let us forget about the circumference of our bodies because there are no waistbands digging in at our bellies, no fabric trying to lay flat over the contours of our behinds. Fat dresses are all about comfort.
Except, yesterday my fat dress didn't do that for me. I was walking down the hall at work when I felt a strange sensation.
"What's that?!" I thought, panicked? I took a few more steps. "Aaaack! That is my butt!"
Sadly, the denim of my fat dress was tugging on my hind end with each step I took. Waaaah! I'm too fat for my fat dress!
My thoughts immediately went to the wedding reception scene from "Steel Magnolias" where someone commented that a woman on the dance floor looked like she had two pigs wrestling under her dress (her belly and her rear).
I guess I have two choices -- and buying a new fat dress is not one of them.
First -- and easiest -- I can change the name of this blog to the GAS (Gluttony and Sloth) Chronicles. Or maybe better the SAG (Sloth and Gluttony) Chronicles, since I've got plenty of SAG going on.
Or, and probably preferable from a health standpoint, I can get off my duff and do something about it. Where is Jillian Michaels when I need her? Maybe they should take a "What Not to Wear" approach to "The Biggest Loser" and just show up to save the sorry soul (me) from themselves. Or maybe A&E's "Intervention" would do a baked goods intervention for me.
(The fact that I've named one movie and three television shows in this entry probably has a direct correlation to the problem at hand.)
Maybe I could adopt a personal trainer? I can offer room and board to someone who is willing to be my own personal chef and drill sargeant.
I am an intelligent woman. I know what I need to do. So why can't I do it? The answer to that would be worth more to me than 10 fat dresses.