What is it about men that make them want to know what a woman weighs? When I met my husband I was a svelt 140. Okay, so svelt isn't exactly the right adjective. I was average and my saddlebags had only recently begun to be filled with a little extra padding. But I was okay and comfortable in my skin. I had no problem telling "honey" how much I weighed.
Over the past seven post menopausal years my skin has gotten a little uncomfortable. I have gained 35 lbs. I've used menopause, having to close my business due to the economy, being downsized from a job, stress of starting a new company and just plain lazy as excuses. Just plain lazy is the only real excuse. I'm not actually physically lazy. I am always busy. I am running 3 businesses, I'm a writer, I send out two newsletters each month, I am the organizer of bi-monthly events for a women's group. It's enough to work up an appetite. But do I have one? Really? Or am I just eating to fill in the gaps.... believe me there aren't many gaps anymore. I've pretty much filled them all.
So here I am on day 3 of this new fandangled internet diet. It's my conscience, my guilt driver, my support. Heaven knows my husband is no support. "Honey" has the will power of ten people. It's disgusting! He keeps telling me he'll help me. His helping amounts to "I thought you weren't going to have any wine", "are you sure you want to eat that?", "I'm not helping you anymore.", and the best one, "so what do you weigh now?" Call me stubborn but I'm not sayin'!
