The other day as I was offered yet another piece of cake at my ibi ise, I glanced down at my Buddha belly and I decided enough was enough. It had to go. It was getting so big; chances were I would have to rent it its own apartment in the next couple of weeks. And seeing as I can hardly afford to pay for my non-ghetto mansion as it is, it was definately time to take action. You see, after years of procrastinating that I would assemble a capsule wardrobe so I could always look stylish, I’ve finally managed to do it by being too fat to fit into any of my clothes. I now have a capsule wardrobe of 3 shirts, I pair of trousers and a skirt. The only stuff left in my wardrobe that doesn’t cut off my circulation. Not bad you might say but that would be if the all actually matched. So I end up looking like Koko the clown at work every day. I know they all wanted to say something when I turned up in my fuchsia shirt and orange skirt combo but I think my branch wide memo about bullying and harassment in the work place put them off.
So I closed my eyes and said “No thank you” to that beautiful piece of Lemon cake with cream cheese frosting and raspberry filling (Oh God! What have I done? No please bring it back before the fatter cow from accounts eats it) and announced to the whole ibi ise to stop offering me yummy goodies. I WAS GOING ON A DIET!!!!! To which one of them waddles up to me and says “Diet? What do you need to diet for? You’re not fat. You look lovely”. God forgive me. I’m trying to be a better Christian/Normal person but the first thing that came into my head when she said that was “E no go better for you. You’re looking for a new roly-poly member to join your club abi? No be me you dey look for. Get thee behind me evil purveyor of calorie laden snacks”. I know their plan…they don’t want to pay me my pension abi. They just want to be deducting contributions from my already meagre salary and then kill me off with cakes before I can cash it in. They will not succeed.
Other than revolting against the perils of a food loving office, my sister "Thank God I’m engaged" nee "Hurry up and propose" Chick’s wedding is in December. I know…. she is so selfish. A loving sister would have waited till the invented a painless, totally free form of plastic surgery so I could at least have a fighting chance of looking decent in the wedding pictures and maybe nabbing a blokey.
Actually Niga would have been the perfect place to nab a blokey. What with them not being aware of my Police records for stalking and my multiple personalities, I could have nabbed myself a real finnneeee thing. But No…some people just couldn’t wait could they. Nope they just had to get married now cause they are in loveeeeeeeeeee. Yeah whatever! Real love could have waited till I found someone to buy my kidney so I could pay to get my tummy stapled. Now I’ll have to do it the old-fashioned way …crap food and exercise. Thanks a lot sis…you’re a real star! But I’ll forgive you…only cause I have to with the whole Christain/Normal person thing I have going on.
Anyway you’re probably doing me a favour seeing as I’ve decided that I’ve been kidding myself trying to find a guy whilst I can’t even button up my jeans. I’ve always thought a guy would fall for the me inside and ignore the outside. I’m sure there are loads of guys out there that love big women but I think the majority of them are just guys that have issues paying for central heating and require a large woman to keep them warm when their portable fan heater breaks down in the winter. So I’ve decided to stop being a human heater and get my behind to the gym.
Ah the gym…my old friend. I give you my money and I usually end up not on a treadmill but on my sofa eating cake and telling myself I will go tomorrow or that the very act of paying money is a sign of commitment and God ultimately rewards commitment (as you can see I interpret my bible to suit my warped thoughts). Gyms love people like me. The story usually ends with me hiding behind my sofa as the Bailiffs pound on my door demanding money for unpaid membership fees. But not this time…I’ll show them and become pencil thin and people will have to beg me to put my clothes on as I parade around in me bikini all year long. Yes! even in the winter. So prepare yourselves people for the new me.
PS: This does not mean you are allowed to make comments or tackle me in the streets should you see me eating a Krispy Kreme donut. All such annoying people will thoroughly slapped, sat on and then slapped again for good measure.