I stepped upon my scales this morning and weighed 215 pounds. My extra large t-shirts are fitting me like discarded circus tent canopies. The seat of my shorts sag and hang off my butt like Droopy's jowls. It is hard to believe that just a few short months ago I weighed 255 pounds. And I gained all that weight in a mere matter of months on my new medications. Easy come. Not so easy go.
I take some comfort in that I am 6 foot, 3 inches tall. That allows me to spread the extra weight around further than most. But I don't want to be fat. I am vain. I will admit it.
My good blogging friend, Annabel, wants to come and visit me at the end of July and I vowed to get down below 200 pounds before she came. It doesn't look like I am going to make it. I have been avoiding her because of it. I want everything to be just perfect if she does come.
Vain, I tell you. It's a curse.