What is it about diets that make us think we need to start them during times of "new beginnings"? Like a new year, or a holiday just passed, or maybe a birthday we are celebrating. Whatever it is - and today it's September for me - we somehow think that the "beginning" of something is the right time to start fresh and get our act together. So today the diet begins.
What torture, what agony! And why is it so difficult? I have theories about diets but I'm sure they would never stand up to scientific proof of any kind. I just know what I have observed in my lifetime. For instance: some people can simply eat more than other people and never gain weight. You can spend an entire day showing me proof that calories make people gain weight, but I have seen it with my own eyes and I know it is true. Some people are just meant to be thin. I hate those people.
Another truth: the people who are on TV talking about how they went from a size 22 to a size 6 by losing 50 lbs must be freaks of nature. I mean, I have lost tons of weight over my lifetime (well maybe not tons but certainly hundreds of pounds over the years) and even my largest losses have never amounted to more than 2 sizes different.
And this one: If I never eat another day of my life I will never be a size 6. I am quite certain that my bones are a certain size and its definatly not a 6.
I made my husband promise me once that if I am ever in a coma and they say I will not recover, he is not allowed to let them turn off the machines that are keeping me alive until I am down to a size 12. Just once in my adult life I would like to reach that goal. It may not be a size 6, but on me I think it will look really, really good. Even if I do have tubes coming out of everywhere.
I wonder if there is a space for that request on a living will....
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6 years ago
1 comment:
Oh Barbara...I found myself laughing right out loud at this, not turning off the machines thing!
I haven't got large bones, but a size 6 is out of the question for me too...but I never thought of having my husband make THAT vow!
A friend of mine had HER husband promise that if she was ever comatose, to be sure to yank the little whiskers from her chin and make sure that her roots were bleached! Growing old, gracefully... oh yeah. Ain't it a hoot?
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