So now I feel like an impostor rather than a super hero, because due to many factors, I haven't worked out in 13 days. Today is (read this with a slow melodic menacing tone)dum, dum, dum, dum, DOCTOR day. I loathe DOCTOR day.
Even though I went through the psychotic scale ritual this past week to overcome my fear of scales - I'm terrified. I've decided to give myself a 10 pound advantage for this weigh-in. The way I see it in my mind, I woke up emaciated this morning (remember, in my mind), but I'll be having a coffee meeting at 9 which will add an instant 2 pounds. Amazing what a little liquid will do to expand your body mass.
Now, on the other hand alcohol does the exact opposite - it sucks any and all hydration particles you may have in your system. That's the only time I actually see my cheekbones. Anyway back to the scale. So yes, the clothes..... all the clothes I'll be wearing, because I suddenly live in the antarctic. So this scale reading will be off the charts. Roy Scheider needed a bigger boat in Jaws. Me thinks my DOCTOR may need a bigger scale. I hope I get through this day.
I've tried to explain to my daughter how hard it is to be me. She doesn't understand the caricature of me (in my mind) is that of a stubble-faced, shirtless fat guy sitting in a lawn chair with a cigar in his left hand and a watering hose in his right. Yet I have to jump out of bed every morning and mold myself into a combination of June Clever and Pamela Anderson. With such a laborious task ahead of me every morning - it's truly a wonder I don't have a pharmacy of hallucinogens in my bathroom.
Hey, have a great day and if you need to feel better about yourself, peek over my fence and look for the lawn chair.
No comments:
Post a Comment