I'm goin' to war, people. I'm gonna attack this massive, hulking blob of a body, and by God I will be victorious, dammit! This past holiday was one of the worst holidays I've experienced. It started Tuesday when my mechanic checked out my gas tank and we decided it needs to be replaced(big bucks, no whammies). Wednesday wasn't bad. Me and my cousin went out to see a band(I actually roadied for this band for a year back in '00-'01). Had some brews and a shot or two, watched the pretty girls shake it on the dance floor. Actually probably was the highlight of my 6 day weekend. Turkey day was spent at my cousin's. Food, football and War of the Worlds(I don't know what everyone was raving about). Then came Friday...I got up bright and early, and drove to Hamburg to the Toyota dealership for a recall thing. From here, everything went in the shitter. First, while I was waiting, I got a price on a gas tank(None of my suppliers even list my truck, so I have no choice but to go to the dealer). I was expecting to be two or mabe even three bills. Wrong! With straps and tax, $618. Holy fuck! Needless to say I will be riding around with 1/2 a tank for awhile to avert spillage. Continuing the slide into the crapper, the service guy tells me that they have to replace the tie rods and pitman arm, but don't worry, Toyota will pay for that, too. Just one problem...the parts have to be ordered. But don't worry, Mr. Jabroni, we'll give you a rental vehicle. Do you have something I will fit into?, I ask. Well, if not, we will call Enterprise and get something from them, they say. OK, bring it on. Well, they bring in a Rav4. I could just about get one leg in the fucking thing. So they call Enterprise. All they have is a Ford 500 sedan. We'll give it a shot, I say. (Although I thought I had come to terms with my fattness awhile ago, this was starting to get embarrassing.) The dude comes and picks me up and takes me back to the office to sign some paperwork. This very sweet,very pretty young lady, Amanda, who is the manager fills out my paperwork, we go out and look the vehicle over, sign here, and away I go...NOT! If I really, really squeezed I may have gotten behind the wheel, but I never would have been able to steer. So back into the office I go. It won't work, I say, as the humiliation begins spreading through me. Please just take me back to the dealer and I will have my Mom come get me, which she did. This whole incident just gnawed at me for the next 2 days. The more I thought about it, the more embarrassed and humiliated I became. So I was faced with a decision...do nothing, get so fat that I can't work, drive or even leave the house...OR...do something about it. So, I'm goin' to war with my body. I need a week to clear the less than desirable food out of the house and dust off the excercise bike, so Monday, December 5 will be my emancipation. Healthy eating, biking, dog walking(when I get one). I know I'll never be thin, but dammit I will be less bloblike, or die tryin'.
Wish me luck!
Wish me luck!
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I'm a Jager girl myself
Thanks for the pennies info
Getting dumped is working wonders for me, haven't eaten a real meal in 3 weeks...thank god for booze though!
Good luck hon!