To My Dear Skinny Spouse

Dear Mr. OCD,

Just because you are six feet, four inches and weigh a buck fifty soaking ass wet, does not mean that you are entitled to live on Little Debbie snack cakes and ice cream.  Furthermore, it is quite inconsiderate to bring such items into our home.  I don't know if you've noticed, but Mama isn't as...well...blessed as you in the genetics department.  Lard wrapped in cellophane makes me break out in cellulite all over!  Although I work out like a damn Olympian, I still look like an Oompa Loompa.  Because I like ice cream.  And chocolate chip cookies.  Screw real food; I need cake!

Which brings me back to our issue.  Quit buying everything ever produced by Pillsbury!  Why do you think the damn company is represented by the freakin' Pillsbury Doughboy?  Have you noticed his extra fluffy physique??  Do you think he got it from eating Kashi Lean!?!?!  He's ass is as big as the state of Texas because he consumed all the shit he is responsible for peddling to poor suckers like you.

Do not get me wrong; I totally appreciate you doing the grocery shopping.  And the cleaning.  And the laundry.  And the yard work.  Okay.  I am a slacker.  But this is not about me.  Stay focused.  Yes, I really appreciate your efforts.  I just wish you'd reconsider some of your choices.  Consider your family.  Think about your wife's ever-spreading ass when you pick up that chub pack of Toll House cookies. 

I'll admit.  I have a problem.  I am a junk food junkie with absolutely ZERO self-control.  If I were a drug addict, would you fill the house with heroine?!?!  HELL to the NO!  Cookies are my drug.  I have an insatiable appetite for Moose Tracks ice cream.  Save me from myself.  For the love of God!  Just say NO!  Help me kick the habit.  Help me live a longer, healthy life.  Lord knows, I do not want some nympho stripper raising my children when I croak from clogged arteries.  I may not haunt you, but I will make sure that Karma kicks your ass.

Love Always,


Your Squeezably Soft Better Half

Is this Rock Bottom?

I'm not sure, but I think I've finally reached rock bottom.  My addiction has taken me to a new level of low.  I never, ever thought my life would come to this.  Yet here I am.  Feeling guilty while justifying my actions at the same time.  Rock bottom is a weird state of mind, though.  I don't feel like I'm ready to stop.  I just feel dirty and a little uneasy.

I skipped my weekly Jenny Craig appointment.  In fact, I've skipped it for the past three weeks.  That addiction is starting to cost way more financially than I'm wanting to pay.  Besides, the exhiliration I used to get isn't there anymore.  It's more like drudgery with a pinch of anxiety.  No more euphoria; just dread.  A little bit of my soul is crushed with each subsequent visit.  I'm afraid the thrill is gone.

Now I find myself engaging in risky behaviors in search of a cheaper, quicker fix.  I want to lose weight, but I don't want to spend a lot of money doing it.  And the regular ol' way (i.e. hard work and exercise) just isn't as fulfilling.  It takes too long!  My ADD won't let me stay focused.

Last week, I had the Lipotropic injection to help with weight loss and energy.  It's a shot of B12 and some other stuff that is supposed to increase your metabolism and break down fatty acids.  Last week, I went to a reputable place run by real professionals.  The office was beautiful, the nurses were knowledgeable, and their credentials were visibly displayed all over the place.  Unfortunately, this nice place is closed on Saturdays. 

OH NO!!!!!

All was not lost, however.  There is another office that offers the same injections, and it's closer to my house and a little cheaper.  I was a bit hesitant at first because the hours of operation seemed a bit "off."  The Podunk Medical Weight Loss Clinic is open on Mondays from 3 p.m. until 7 p.m., on Tuesdays from 9 a.m. until 2 p.m., and on Saturdays from 9 a.m. until 1 p.m.  What kind of doctor's office has hours like that??  Sounds like a doctor who's trying to hide from the F.B.I. and the A.T.F.

I felt a bit uneasy again when I discovered the location.  It is in a very small strip mall tucked between an Asian nail salon, a check cashing liquor store, and a Cricket phone store.  Suffice it to say that if my OB-GYN moved to a location of this sort, I'd never grace his stirrups with my presence again.  I was desperate, though.  I needed my weekly Lipotropic injection!

It only got worse from there.  When I entered the office, I was greeted by a nice lady and 14 fatties patients.  The waiting room was a bit small with undressed, paneled walls that were painted in a pukey beige color.  No clock, no fake Van Gogh, no office signage...NOTHING!  The chairs were metal.  There were no magazines or informative brochures.  Just a bunch of fat chicks patients sitting on some metal chairs.

As I took my seat, I overheard the receptionist speaking with another potential client.  I wasn't sure what they were talking about, but I did hear, "Cash only!"  WTF?!?  Who carries cash in the United States?  I couldn't even tell you who is on the ten dollar bill!  Pathetic, I know, but I can describe my debit card in great detail.

Lucky for me, she was merely explaining that the clinic does not accept insurance.  Yes, ma'am.  We'll accept your debit card.

Praise Jesus!

When the "nurse" called me back, I got that uneasy feeling again.  She didn't look like any nurse I'd ever seen.  She was dressed in street clothes with a lab coat thrown over it.  She could have easily passed for a painter, but definitely not a nurse.  Also, she weighed about 500 pounds as did several of the other ladies in the office.  I wanted to ask her why she wasn't doing the shots, but I was scared she'd kill me.  She was a big one!

Although I had to fill out this lengthy medical history form, I seriously doubt she ever looked at it.  These shots affect a person's liver.  My mother died from liver disease.  I noted it on the form.  She never asked me a single question. 

Don't worry; I know I don't have liver disease.  My mom contracted it from a blood transfusion.  However, the nurse NEVER ASKED ME ANYTHING ABOUT IT!  Instead, she took my vitals.  Puh-leeez, you'll kill me with a lethal injection but you want to make sure my blood pressure isn't elevated?!?!  Then she led me to a little room wear I was told to drop my shorts.  I'm not even sure that the needle was clean!  I never saw her take it out of any packaging!  I did see her dispose of it in one of those little HAZARD containers on the wall, though.  Let's pray that it was, in fact, sterile.

The injection site has been a little itchy, but I didn't have any other immediate side effects.  When I left, I couldn't help but feel like I needed a shower.  The place wasn't literally dirty, but it was dirty nonetheless. 

One thing is certain.  I am addicted to weight loss!  I will go to great lengths to achieve it.  Any dealer claiming to show immediate weight loss results is on my speed dial. 

I know how a crack whore feels now...

The Misadventures of a JC Junkie

I never, ever blog more than once in a day.  I typically don't have time.  Today, though, is going to be an exception.  This is too good; and with my Alzheimer's and all, I'd forget by tomorrow.

As we've already established, I am a NUT JOB!  In fact, I am darn near certifiable (though some would argue that I'm full-blown).  As is typical of me, I took a seemingly boring day and turned it into an adventure.  Well, really, a misadventure!

As you all know, I am on the JC diet plan.  Every week I head down to my not-so-local consultant in Memphis for a weigh-in and my JC fix for the week.  I had an appointment at 9:45 am.  With the weather, though, my girl, Jess, said I could just come at any time before 1 pm.  This was at around 10 am.

Hmmm...  I need to get to down to Park Avenue before 1 pm.  It's 10 am now.  Piece of cake!  In his usual pessimistic manner, my husband hit the roof.  "You won't make it, dammit!  Can't you just wait until Monday?  Don't we have something here you can eat?"

Yea, if I were a a toothpick like you and could eat whatever I want without gaining an ounce or getting a pimple!  Needless to say, his negativity just fueled my determination.  I got dressed in warm clothes and grabbed the keys to his truck.  I figured nothing could be too bad for 4-wheel drive.  Right?!?

As I backed down our driveway, I looked at the mess around me.  Wow!  I didn't realize how bad we'd been hit with the ice and snow!  Our road looked much like that pretty, glistening ice skating rink in Central Park.  God, I love that place!  I wish I could take the kids to NYC to ice skate in Central Park.  Sorry...another ADD moment.  Where was I?  Oh, yea...so the road was basically a sheet of ice.

I was determined, though.  I'm still thinking that I can get to JC before closing.  If I drive really slow and don't hit the brakes too hard, I can make it.

After driving for nearly 40 minutes to the main thoroughfare that is less than a mile from my house, I thought I was finally in the clear.  I was sure that our one street sweeper would have cleaned off Rosemark Road.  After all, that's probably one of the busiest roads in the county.  It leads to the mall, for crying out loud!  No one cares if the kids go to school, but God forbid that commerce be hindered!

As is always my luck, things were not as I'd planned.  The main road was just an extension of the ice rink on my street.  Oh, crap!  I get my friend, L, on the 411 to tell her about the pickle my ridiculous pride put me into.  She told me to just turn around and go to Kroger.  She told me not to call my husband, but rather, tell him when I return that I just didn't "feel" like driving all that way.

I won't listen to the father of my children, the man I trust with my life, but now L is making sense.  So I turn around and start back towards our local Kroger.  I've already wasted a good hour on this little trip, but Kroger was a more logical choice.  No, it's not my usual cuisine but it will do.  Fine then!  I'm not happy about it, but what's a girl to do???

Just as I pull out of the gas station back onto the main road, a car coming from the opposite direction starts to swerve just a bit.  I hit the brakes.  Big mistake.  The other car corrected and drove on while I spun into a ditch!!!  OMG!  I was only going 5 freakin' miles an hour!!!  WTH happened? 

I tried to back out, but got stuck.  I tried to pull forward, but got stuck.  Luckily, a cop pulled up next to me and hit his lights.  Next a very nice man pulled over with some ropes to help pull me out.  Unfortunately, neither the ropes nor his truck were strong enough.  Another man pulls up with some official tow ropes, but that didn't work either.  I was freakin' stuck!

Then, in the distance, shining like the Aurora Borealis, I saw a tow truck!  Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.  The policemen flagged him down and worked out a deal.  Twenty bucks!  Can't beat that, now can I???  Uh oh, but wait...  I don't have $20 on me.  I'm a plastic girl!  I don't carry!  I'm a quick draw on the swiper, but I'm not even sure what a twenty-dollar bill even looks like!

If I weren't married and didn't have an aversion to kissing strange people, I would have kissed Timmy Kinney's Tow Service dude right there on the side of that damn road!  He pulled me out and handed me his card!  I offered to let him follow me home, but he told me to just forget about it!  I promised I'd mail him the money.  I've already written the check and put it in an envelope.

All the while, my husband was blowing up my phone with the "I told you so!  Damn it!" and some much stronger expletives I prefer not to mention.  Even after all that, I still went to Kroger and didn't get home until 3 pm.

Was I freakin' crazy??  Well, uh, yea.  We know that.  But what was I thinking??  I felt like some junkie going out in a blizzard to find my next fix.  I lost all marbles and risked my life for some high dollar, low cal cuisine.  Which, by the way, reminds me...  I know now why I never lost weight eating Lean Cuisines.  Have you ever read the labels on those things??  Those things have a lot of calories!  It took reading every label in the store to find a few things that were in the same calorie and fat range as JC food.

If I can one freakin' ounce while being snowed in, I'm blaming it on my husband!!!!