Sunday, August 24, 2008
I’m sitting here watching that movie “What Women Want.” It frightens me. Imagine if men could really hear what I was thinking. It would sound something like this: “Fries or Onion Rings? Are you going to finish that? He’ll never know I ate all the Ho Ho’s.” Not only would I be an unmarried mother to 40 stray cats, I would most likely be committed. In fact, after a record breaking weekend of binge eating my stomach looks like one of those starving kids on the television. Only instead of being hungry I’m giving birth to the Taco Bell twins. I think there should be a law against this sort of behavior. Ya know…post a nice wanted poster of me at all of the fast food joints in town…stuffing nachos in my face, cheese dripping down my chin and empty taco wrappers all around me. Classic. “Wanted….serial eater. Known to frequent Taco Bell for the 4th meal.” I find that little tag line (4th meal) quite catchy as well as effective. However, I fast for the 4th meal. It’s a sacrifice. I know this.
So I went to church today with my usual laundry list of requests. On the top of that list was a sign from God that I should stop my uncontrolled eating. My pastor always says, Gods gives us signs but we aren’t always paying attention. He’s right! There’s been a sign as bright as Vegas following me around for 35.998 years…my fat ass! Had I chosen to honor God and use this “sign” to educate others about the bible, I’m confident I could have displayed all of the scriptures from the old and new testament with a little room left for interpretation. Clearly I am a sinner who will burn in hell… fat ass and all. Hope they stoke the fire. That’s alot of burnin. So while I wasn’t paying attention in church, I whispered to my friend Tricia, “I have been eating like a horse all weekend.” Now she knows me well enough to know that I don’t need a reason to eat. However, as sweet as she is, she responded, “Are you getting ready to start?” Ahhh…I wish I could use aunt Flo as an excuse but unless she has taken up permanent residence in me, no. Who knows, maybe I’m pre-pre-pre- menstrual. It’s possible.
To drive home the point that I have clearly gone over the edge, I’ll share a tidbit about Tricia that you’ll appreciate. She is the queen of self control when it comes to eating. She just won’t eat bad. It’s fascinating. I’ve tried to bring her over to the “other side” but she won’t budge. So we do this “thing.” Every time she comes back from the doctor I ask her how much she weighs. A few weeks ago she surpassed me by 10 whole pounds! Confused? Oh did I fail to mention she’s pregnant! I’m reaching. I realize this. There’s another potentially fatal error that I have managed to avoid….pregnancy. I already eat for 2 or 3, can you imagine that I have to up that to 4? While the thought of eating with a purpose intrigues me, I just can’t go there. I don’t even want children…well bcs I already have a 37 year old and I can’t imagine why I would duplicate something I have yet to comprehend. Not to mention my one rule about getting pregnant was that I had to be in shape and eating like a human before I would try on that shoe. Well that shoe still doesn’t fit and I prefer to go barefoot, thank you. I figure if I keep eating at this pace I can just tell people I’m pregnant and see how that works out. There are clear benefits to the plan. I could start taking advantage of the “Mothers with Children” parking at the supermarket. Every time I see that damn space I wonder why they are given special treatment. Personally I think people with binge eating disorders should park up front. Let’s face it, we keep the place in business. But unlike the Mothers with Children, we would be to ashamed to park there. Yup. Looks like I’ll be riding with Tricia and the baby to get the rock star parking.
I’m not sure what it’s going to take to stop me at this point. Tomorrow is Monday. That’s always a safe plan. Maybe someone can spray Windex on my ass to make it go away…it worked in My Big Fat Greek Wedding. It’s plausible. So there I have two possible solutions. Anyway, it’s time for me to go to bed. Distended belly and all. Tricia… take comfort in knowing that we have alot of the same issues. I can’t sleep on my stomach, or on my back and my belly is putting pressure on my bladder. We both have someone to blame for our discomfort. Difference being your someone is 4 lbs and was made out of love. My someone weighs alot more than that was made out of beans, tortilla chips and cheese. My someone will come out of me with little to no effort and….ok I’m stopping. God help me!