So I’ve put off talking about it, although it’s weighed heavily on me.

No pun intended, and you’ll understand in a second.

I’ve mentioned before how big girls don’t talk about their weight, because it breaks the first rule of Fat Club.  This is not to say that we don’t obsess over it ALL-THE-TIME, because we do, but we don’t talk about it.  Ignoring it makes it easier to pretend that people aren’t disgusted when they look at us.

So when I went to the doctor the other day, I had to step on the scale (as always).  And to my utter shock and disgust, I have gained 9 lbs. since the wedding.  Nine, people.  One away from a big ole TEN.  In TWO MONTHS.

Blech.  I feel like Jabba the Hut just saying that.

I don’t understand how I let that happen.  And God love her, the attending physician was trying to be helpful when I almost came apart there in front of her.  “But, honey,” she said, “You’ve been REALLY sick.”

Or, as it echoed in my mind, you just gave up and stopped trying.

So I’ve been at the gym every night this week.  I’ve run 1.5-2 miles every night, with at least half of each run being on a Level 6 incline.  I’ve biked a bunch.  I’ve done at least 30 minutes of weights every night. 

And?  I feel the same.  My muscles aren’t even tired from this.  I’m not sore, nor have I been, and I haven’t lost anything.  Other than patience.  I’m quickly losing patience.

Which explains why I COMPLETELY showed my ass last night at the gym when the class I’ve attended FOUR TIMES was cancelled.. for the FOURTH TIME I’ve tried to attend it.  This was after I had asked the front desk not but five minutes earlier if it was still on-schedule.  And this was also the same night where no one was allowed to use the bathroom because there was a sewer issue.

I just feel gross.  I feel healthier (as in, I’m no longer sneezing and can swallow again), but I feel fat, huge, nasty, grotesque, and angry.  Work has been hellish this week, with people snipping at me left and right, and I really don’t want to be a stepmom this weekend.  I’ll deal, and The Boy will never know the difference, but damn.

Pity party is now closed.