The Pot Calling the Kettle Rotund

Never again will I smugly brag, even silently, about how I can effortlessly control my weight.   I can't say that I've actually tried all that hard, but I am finding this belly situation a little disconcerting.

It used to be that I could cut out a few meals, eat less when I did have a meal, and in no time, my appetite was minimal and I became skinny.  I'm still sort of slender, but I have a beer gut; and I don't even drink.

I have been eating fewer meals but, unlike my past experiences, I think about eating, and how I want to feed myself constantly.  I believe I am being shown just a hint of what many people go through.  It is hard for people to burn more fuel than they take in.  I guess that is why they invented amphetamines and manual labor.

Exercise, just for the sake of exercise, to me, is as unpleasant as laying on the beach.  I love the coast and the beach, but I have to be doing something.  I can't just lay there.

Walking is great, and walking up my hill can be a pretty good energy burner.   I find it tougher to do things like walking unless I am going somewhere, or just kissing up to some dame who wants to walk aimlessly.  In both cases I suppose I'm trying to get to  defined destination for a defined purpose.

For me to walk to the store would be a major outing; 9 miles there losing 2000 feet in elevation, and then the walk back.  One day I may do it, but no way that will become one of my habits designed to divorce myself from this jelly belly and keep it gone.

It is easy to see how people make money off of fad diets and all else related to losing weight.  I'm still far enough on this side of the line to see what a scam that really is most of the time.

I probably wouldn't care if I were married.  As it is there's a skinny chick who is way too healthy and athletic for me to feel comfortable wooing in my present shape.  Fortunately she is not local and not likely to work out long term.  Things could go differently, but I tend to doubt it.  Whether that is a defense mechanism at play, or actual intuition at work, I don't know.

In any case, it is a lame, semi-motivational excuse to avoid letting this situation get any further out of hand.  The best thing is to do more work.  Physical work.  Things you can see like build a house,  dig for gold,  catch rabbits bare handed and make fuzzy sweaters with the hide--that sort of thing.

Actually, I'm trying to talk myself into the female-motivates-me thing.  In truth, I have no idea for sure what I am thinking.  I certainly do admire this person's character and such.  But that is the story of my life.  I'm too peculiar for these self assured, very cool women to deal with, even when they like me.

I'm not about to get behind that 8 ball again.  I'll lose the belly, but I am uncertain about not remaining a semi-recluse.  Company--fine.  Commitment--I can't visualize that at this time.

Karma.  I believe it happens because I tend to learn things which I did not properly appreciate in the past.  Empathy and sympathy are qualities that I find tend to expand as I get older.   That, and my libertarian leaning philosophy toward matters public.

Many do not see how the two go hand in hand.  But they do.

So, to all you kettles out there, this pot understands and will not be calling you rotund.  We jolly jigglies need to stick together.  Michele O can't help us.  I think that since she started calling everyone obese and making it her business, she's been putting on padding herself.  As if I need some wannabe royalty involved in my health and diet anyway.

Maybe when people run for president they should disclose what stupid crusades their spouses plan to waste our time and money to promote.  I wish none of them would have any crusade.  Go play tennis.  Have affairs.  Become obese. Just stay out of things and shut up.  The spouses aren't holding elective office.