Put It Down Fat Girl


My gym membership finally came back into effect today. YAY! Not. What a sick April Fools joke.   Fat girl inside me still feels lazy and doesn’t want to go. I know I have to, but I don’t want to. But I need to, because I don’t want flabby skin forever. Once I go, I know I’ll get all this crazy energy, and want to go all the time. I’m kind of also excited that I’ll get to be one of the “normal sized” people in class. I think I’ll be able to last a lot longer in class and won’t come up with as many excuses to not go to classes. Speaking of fat girl, let’s give her a name; how about Hefty Helga. It’s not nice to just call her fat girl, right?

This weekend, after some much needed alone time, I found myself looking in the fridge; saying hello to snacks and ice creams. As I pick up a spoon to eat my delicious looking ice cream frozen yogurt,I look down at my jumbotron stomach, and say “put it down fat girl”. Healthier Hillary decided that it would be the right thing to put the ice cream weapon down and take advantage of this time to herself. I got this sudden burst of energy, and moved all my furniture to one end of my apartment. I put on some running shoes, a large sweatband and turn on a Richard Simmons tape. Thirty minutes of Sweatin’ To The Oldies later, I look over out my window, and I notice this nice but creepy rapist-looking fellow staring at me, you know the kind with like the creepy moustache and the big rapist glasses? (I’m sure his name was Raymond or something creepy like that). It was way creepy and I should totally invest in some blinds.  I still don’t know whether I should take Raymonds intense gaze as a compliment or as a totally creepy gesture. Either way, is it wrong if I said I liked it?

Also, this weekend, I found my two favorite chocolate bars together to make one delicious mouth watering treat. DAIRY MILK BUBBLE BARS. I almost peed myself when I saw this. I went to the store and started sniffing the packaging. I will admit I got a few stares, but so what? I realized how much of a douche I looked like, and yelled at Helga to put it down. I don’t need you chocolate, we’re over.

The scale was nice to me the next morning, so I think Ricky Simmons and I are going to be best friends. My new weight loss trick is to stick a picture of Hefty Helga on the fridge. Every time I go to grab a treat, I’ll be reminded of how I don’t want to be that girl anymore.

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