This is what I used to look like, altho even here I had begun to put on a few pounds. This is Quiller, so it is before 2000.
This is what I look like now. Since it is Nigel in the cart, you know the photo is recent. My husband, who doesn't lie, says it is flattering:
So once again I joined Weight Watchers. The first meeting was last night. It is run by the Energizer Bunny. I get exhuasted watching her.
I told them I join and lose weight (usually about 15 pounds) and then just quit. They asked why. I was honest: I dunno.
The flab has adversely affected my sense of being. I feel ugly. I don't care much what I look like. I don't pay attention to how I dress and I don't go places because I have nothing to wear that doesn't make me feel like a fire hydrant.
My arthritis is much worse. I cannot bend my left leg up far enough to put on a sock. I am short of breath. My hips hurt when I walk the dogs, even Nigel. Sometimes they hurt so badly in the grocery store I have to stop for a moment. I think it is walking on concrete that does it, but the three thousand pounds my hips have to support isn't helping them.
Worst of all, I HATE EXERCISE. This is not new, I always have. I hated gym. I flunked it. I am not athletic. I do not get a rush from running, I cough.
But I have to get the weight off. It is imperative. I am going to have a heart attack even tho they do not run in my family. I will set a precedent. No one else in my family except one deceased Aunt after whom I am named has been fat.
I want to be skinny again. I would prefer to wake up tomorrow and discover I weigh 110. However. I guess I have to do this.
Maybe if I write it down here for other people to see, I'll do it this time.
