Operation Skinny Me

It was on a whim that I ran into my fave store on the planet... it just happened to be right next door to the pharmacy, so I figured I'd just have a quick browse after I'd bought some meds for the foot and mouth saga. My excuse was that I needed to buy a few packs of boxers for my hubby (seeing as we still don't have plumbing attached to my washing machine and hence have not been able to do any laundry since we moved here! - but that's a whole other story) because he's run out. Of rods. Imagine my delight when I found PILES of clothes marked down. Now, you all know that I'm not above snatching an item from under the nose of an unsuspecting fellow shopper mingling with the masses in search of that perfectly good (albeit it slightly out of fashion) marked-down item. Who really cares if it's so last season, right? Me either. I've become quite the expert shopper lately too. Min bucks = cleverer shopper. I've also realized the key to shopping without scaring the hubby: For every item you buy for yourself, buy two for him. Very nifty trick. Feel free to use it if you like. So anyway, I bought some (cotton) boxers for hubby (they say cotton boxers help with fertility. Yeah right. Ah, well, worth a try!), a new fleecy jacket for hubby at only twenty smackaroos (marked down from ninety-nine bucks) and then I spied some track-suit pants for moi. You know - those cute Oprah / J-lo style trackies. Marked down to Nineteen Ronts Ninety Nine. I know!

... so of course I tried them on, perrrrfect fit!, bought them and drove home with a huge smile on my face...

Oh my word! Have I joined the ranks of the country bpumpkins??? Those big fat roly poly ones who sit on their front porches with cigarettes dangling from between their lips* and shout profanity at passers-by? ME??? A plus size woman!!! Oh no. Surely it's not come to this? Oh alright, so I did notice a little while ago that sometimes, when I stop moving, my thighs don't. But only when I'm wearing sweats. The loose-fitting variety.

OK, who am I fooling? If I'm feeling good in a size 40, it's time to get dieting. Damn! And I was so enjoying my cappuccinos and chocolates. And crisps.

I wouldn't even have bothered about it too much - the fat, I mean - except, have you ever seen really nice round boozies look good on a roly poly? Nope? Me either. What's the point of me getting my boobs if they're just going to be camoflaged by my fatrolls? So, Operation Make Me Skinny has been activated. Back to counting my carbs and everything else that passes between my lips. And as of Monday, I will be exercising at least twice a week. For at least twenty minutes. Each time. I know you're all sitting there sniggering and thinking what a procrastinator I am. Well, I don't want to scare my fat into thinking I'm getting rid of it - that's when they cling tighter you see. Well, not really. It's more about mind over matter fatter. If I have a goal in mind - especially a realistic one - then I can achieve goals easier and in so doing motivate myself towards more action.

They also say that exercise releases endorphins, and I could really use some of those.

So, Adieu, cheese and onion chips that I love! Farewell, barbeque fritos! Adios Cadbury's Whole Nut Chocolate! Hello carrot sticks. And cucumber. And ugghhh... low fat milk! Hello Skinny Me. I will learn to love you. Repeat after me : "Big Girl, you are beautiful!" Mika - you're my hero!

*I don't smoke... or swear... but if the shoe image fits and all of that...