Wednesday, March 22, 2006

Satan's Month of Madness

I hate March. It is the worst month of the year. It is almost spring but, no, it is still winter: Wait, it is hot, no wait, it is cold again. Yippy! It is the first day of spring! Oh, crap: a freeze warning is in effect. Cold/hot, rainy, windy: it all sucks. It is a fucking tease.

Not that I am ready for warm weather anyway. I am still fat and scaly from winter. These legs are not short worthy by any means. After winter though 70 degrees feels like a heatwave. I feel like I should be wearing a bikini. Yet conversely in September, after summer's hellish heat, 70 degrees feels like a cold front and I want a sweater. However, I do like September. September is wonderful and sunny. March, I do not like. At all.

Okay, so the cherry trees are amazing. Beautiful, really. I love them. But the pear trees stink and my allergies kick into high gear. I can go all winter without a cold but as soon as March hits I am sick.

In March I am ugly and the weather sucks and I am sick. Then one day the doorbell will ring and I will open it and there on my doorstep is Satan. Sure he is dressed as a girl scout all cute and chirpy but I see Satan for what he is. Holding out his Samoas and calling me Eve.

Sigh, cute neighbor girl brought me all the girl scout cookies I ordered when I was feeling thin in January and was still running like a Kenyan. But now it is March and I have officially been on a diet for at least a week.

I noticed a few weeks ago that my jeans had been feeling tight. I do not own a scale so unless I go to the doctor I have no idea what I weigh. I do take my measurements though to keep track of things and make sure that I am at least maintaining. Shrinking is okay, growing at this point is not. (Well, that is, unless the titty fairy is finally going to pay me a visit--then growing would be okay.) At any rate, measuring is not a regular habit. Just something I will do when I am having a fat day and I want to see if it is all "really in my head." And, conversely, I will measure on a thin day when I want to boost my ego and wear some clothes in my closet that I am really too old to pull off.

The day I put on my favorite jeans and they felt tight I went scurrying for the tape. To my horror I have gained almost an entire inch on my waist since November. Granted, in November, I was training for a marathon and logging over 50 miles a week, but still an inch!

This called for drastic steps. I cut out my daily popcorn with butter and coke. I cut my nightly wine intake to like, oh, every other day. (It is only an inch-- no need to go crazy.) I cut out ALL fastfood. And I upped my workouts. I tried eating less at all meals and only having one snack a day instead of twelve. I was doing pretty good til Satan showed up with his apples.

I am happy to report that as of today though the Samoas are no longer a temptation. I finished off the last box this morning for breakfast. I can resist the thin mints and tagalongs in the cabinent, so tomorrow I should be back on track.

Next year, when Satan rings my bell I will do the same thing I do when the Jehovah Witnesses and Mormons ring my bell.


  1. Natalie - I love your posts. They make my day.

    If you find the titty fairy, just send her on to my house too.

    Luckily, Doug disposes of the "apples" to the guys who work for him so they can tempt me no longer. In a related marketing coup, after I already bought cookies from the kid next door, a friend of mine said that I could purchase the cookies from her kid and she would donate them to the food bank for me - EVERYONE WINS! : )

  2. I got sucked in by the Samoas, too. Arrrgh!