All I wanted was to look nice. That’s it. That’s not a lot to ask of anyone. Hell, anyone. That’s not a lot to ask of me. It was that simple. Look. Nice. But no, I couldn’t even pull that off.
The slacks seem too short. The collar on the shirt doesn’t look right. And the sleeves on the jacket still don’t seem right. Mix in a little low self-esteem and you know what you get? Me. Sitting in front of the computer having a pity party instead of going to the company Christmas party.
Fuck, people. I was really looking forward to it, too. I finally thought I’d look nice. It’s not so much that others would think it, but that I would think it. I wanted to look in the mirror and be proud of the person looking back at me. But it didn’t happen. So I did what I do best. I called and said I had “something come up” and I couldn’t make it. Said I couldn’t go into it right now, but we’d talk on Monday.
I didn’t tell them that the something that came up was I couldn’t stand the fat guy looking at me in the mirror. I didn’t tell them that the collar was fucked up or the sleeves were fucked up or the pants were fucked up. We’ve been through this before, Dear Reader, and nothing seems to change. I wish it would change, but wishing isn’t going to make it happen.
It’s not that hard, really. I just need to lose weight, but I can’t get motivated. Everything’s tomorrow. I’ll go to the grocery store and buy decent food. Tomorrow. I’ll hook up the bike to the stationary trainer and ride for a bit. Tomorrow. I’ll go back the gym and start working out. Tomorrow. You know the old saying, right? Tomorrow never comes. I don’t know if it’s depression, or self-pity, or laziness, or what. There’s just no motivation to change.
Well, that’s not true. There is motivation. There is a reason for me to change. But the reason is just a pipe dream. It’s a fantasy, really, but it’s all I seem to have at the moment. Maybe I can use that to get me off my ass and make a change. Once I get started, I’ll be ok. It’s the starting, though, that’s the hardest part.
Sorry for dumping on you, Dear Reader, but nowadays it seems that when things go bad (or good), you’re there for me to share it with. Thanks for listening.