Posts Tagged ‘bitchy’
Yes, the lack of deliciousness in my diet is getting to me. I feel like I’m eating dirt and twigs – that’s how fucking bland this diet is. Blehck! I’m pissed. I’m grumpy. I’m sick of eating the same shit day in and day out. I’m trying to keep my mind off of it by staying busy…which I am able to do most days. Today…it was another story. I had too much time on my hands and every few minutes my mind wandered – to chocolaty goodness land, to icecreaminess land, to ANYWHERE but frickin’ dirt & twig land. I then tried to redirect my pissiness. I wasn’t too successful with that and now I’ve ended up with a nice little list of shit that pissed me off today.
#1 The school drop off loop. At my daughter’s school there is a parent drop off loop that I use every morning. It’s the same routine every day: you pull your car up to the head of the loop, let your kid get out of the car and watch them dash into school. Simple, right? Holy hell. I wish it were that simple. For some reason I always seem to get behind these idiot women who take FOREVER to unload their kids. Why does it take them so long? I’ve paid close attention lately and here is why: because they are talking on their cell phone, lighting a cigarette (or crack pipe), fixing their hair in the mirror, reading a book, or painting their nails (I made the last two up but they are possibilities). They can’t just pull up and dump their kid off. They have to sit there for minutes on end while traffic is backing up behind them. Today I sat behind a vehicle and started to boil as I saw, not the mother, but the daughter sit and play with her hair in the mirror for what seemed like 5 minutes. I was furious. Come on, my kid needs to get into school and YOUR kid should have done her frickin’ hair in the mirror at home…not in your blasted car taking up MY time in the loop.
#2 Parties of two who decide to take the largest frickin’ table in a restaurant. Oh.My.Gawd. I want to smack these people. I was having lunch with the girls today (no…not my boobs, my girlfriends: 3 of them + me = 4) and I arrived at the restaurant first to find that there were no 4-tops available. BECAUSE the only two tables that could seat 4 were being occupied by couples…yes COUPLES…2 PEOPLE…not 4. What the hell? There was a plethora of 2-top tables. But, oh no, do you think these folks could be considerate and sit at those? Nooooooo. So, we had to sit at the bar and wait until these morons were finished before we could be seated. Grrrrrrrr.
#3 People at the grocery store with carts filled to the frickin’ ceiling who refuse to let ANYONE ahead of them…even those of us with just one measly item in our paws. Arrggggghhhhh. Motherfuckers. These people need to be tied to the back of a car and dragged…to frickin’ Egypt (well, actually probably somewhere in the States since you couldn’t technically drive to Egypt). I always…yes, always, let someone in front of me if I have a shitload of groceries to purchase and the person behind me has a pack of gum…or even an armful of stuff. Don’t these people know how annoying it is to wait…and wait…and wait…when all we want to do is pay for our frickin’ tampons (or whatever) and get out of the store?
#4 Let’s just continue with the grocery store tirade, shall we? This one is for Kate…and all my other short friends who can’t reach the top shelf at the grocery store. The shelves are always neatly faced first thing in the morning. By mid-day the shelves have been picked over and the items that do happen to be left are so far back on the top shelf you’d need an arm extension to grab them. Hey, Captain Hook, can you come here and help me grab this can of corn? Now, how the hell are people supposed to reach these things? In my grocery shopping experience I’ve had more than one person ask for my assistance (it helps to be a 5’10’ Amazon woman) in reaching an item on the top shelf. We are at the grocery store…to shop…for things on the shelf…things that should be easily accessible. How hard is it to send one of the grocery boys (or whatever the hell they call themselves these days) around to reface the shelves mid-day? Isn’t that what they’re there to do anyway? Oh wait, we wouldn’t want to bother those busy little boys who are collecting shopping carts in the parking lot and playing “wheelie” as they ride them to the cart stall.
#5 People who have NO idea what the center turning lane is for. This drives me absolutely crazy. What the hell do people think that middle lane is for? Do they think it’s some new fangled “walking lane” for pedestrians – so they can safely walk down the middle of a frickin’ street? How hard is it to figure out what that lane is for? Oh.My.God. I want to ram my car into the back of the next motherfucker who doesn’t use that lane to turn and remains in front of me to turn left.
Wow, that was quite a bitchfest. I feel much better now. That is all for now. Over and out.
I’m not sure why I feel compelled to share this dull bit of information with everyone, after all, you’ve heard it all before: Blah, blah, blah I’m fat; whine, whine, whine I need to go on a diet. I’d just like to prepare you for what you may be encountering when clicking on this here blog in the next few weeks. It may not be pretty. It certainly will be bitchy…and ranty…and possibly annoying (Oh, wait that’s really not much of a deviation from the norm, is it?). Because I am about to, yet again, venture into the sucky wonderful world of dieting.
I’ve decided it’s time to pull out all the stops and get my ass back into shape. Several years back (after I’d gained a whopping 50-some lbs. when pregnant with my daughter) I decided that I’d had it with being a fatty. I wasn’t too keen on the dieting thing; after all, it had never really seemed to work for me. I have no willpower and dammit, if I see a Cadbury Mini Egg (thankfully that only occurs around Easter) or any form of dark chocolatey goodness I can’t say “no”. Yes, yes, yes is the only thing I’m thinking when it comes to chocolate.
One day at work I was perusing the interwebs and stumbled across a site devoted to the South Beach Diet. I was intrigued by the testimonials and thought to myself, “Hmmph, this might be something I could do.” As soon as the clock struck five I was off to the grocery store to collect my South Beach Diet necessities. As most of you probably know the first phase of this diet is the WORST. No dairy, no fruit, no carbs, no sugar, no alcohol (yeah, right), pretty much anything that tastes good is a no-no. Shit, I thought, what the hell am I going to eat- paper? As I read further I found that this diet allowed for plenty of eggs and poultry. So, I figured as long as I could eat my way through the chicken coop I’d be fine.
The first week of the diet was dreadful. I chose to go hard core and was eating the bare minimum. Except that I cheated – with the alcohol. Yep. There was absolutely no way I was going to go through this hell and fore-go my wine. Like I said, the first week was brutal; I was a whiny, crabby ass bitch. If I hadn’t at least treated myself to the wine I probably would have stopped strangers on the street and punched them in the face. As I progressed into the second week of the diet I noticed that I was no longer hungry all the time. Once the sugar and carbs were completely out of my system it was smooth sailing. The payoff: 14 pounds lost in two weeks. Yipee!
Once my body adjusted to this new food regimen it became a way of life for me and I continued on with Phase One for several months (even though you are only required to follow this phase for two weeks) and again, the payoff was sweet: I lost 62 lbs. in six months. I was thinner than I had ever been. The funny (and awful) thing about the dramatic weight loss was that people started asking me if I was ill. Haha. I wanted to scream, “NO…but YOU will be ill if you keep asking me that question.” Shit, a chick just can’t win. Either you’re too fat or too skinny.
I was able to keep the weight off for approximately three years…and then…well, you know how the story goes. You fall in love, you eat out at fancy restaurants, you sit on the couch and snuggle, you cook gourmet meals for your loved one, you go to movies and share gargantuan buckets of buttery popcorn, you sit on the couch some more, you eat more, and eventually you are fat and happy – well, sort of. And then the relationship ends. And then you are just plain fat…and unhappy. That is where I am at today. Thankfully, I don’t have such a drastic amount of weight to lose. I’m not thrilled about going through the South Biatch Hell Diet again but I’m going to give it a whirl. After all, what have I got to lose…except for the weight? (Mwahahahaha, I love stealing corporate slogans, especially when I’m not going to use the corporation’s diet!).