Fatty Fatty

Another way that I am turning into my mother is that I now stand in the closet screaming, "I have nothing to wear," while trying to get my pants over my thighs. At least she was thin until she was 50. Here I am at the ripe and round age of 26 finding that all of my new cells jiggle and wondering what in the world I am doing with cellulite.

Food has been pleasure and comfort. It is also inner evil that ridicules for every bite of indulgence. You are disgusting.

I blame America. This certainly has to be the fault of my collective culture and not of my individual behavior. Like everyone, I watch The Biggest Loser while lying on the couch eating ice cream.

I am waiting for the summer. I don’t like to eat in the summer.