Tight tight tighty tight

The title comes from one of my favorite Real Men of Genius commercials: Mr Tiny Thong Bikini Wearer. Hilarious!

My battle of the bulge continues. Can you still call it a battle if one side gives up and lets the fat tanks roll over them? Hmm. I felt slightly vindicated today when I observed that an acquaintance who had the same thyroid surgery several months after I did is also gaining weight. I shouldn't feel too smug about it. Having a go-to excuse for being a fat fatty doesn't change the fact that I am a fat fatty.

I've tossed around the idea of joining a gym and paying extra for a personal trainer. I haven't done it for a few reasons; I'm not sure I can afford to do that while my job is up in the air, I don't want to be laughed at by all the pretty people, I don't think it will really make a difference. Then there's the biggest reason: it's easier to do nothing.

Still, I need to do something. I'm physically uncomfortable being this big. I squeeze into chairs, I can't put my shoes on without losing my breath. Some of my PCOS symptoms are coming back, which is not a good sign. I'm embarrassed by the weight gain and I haven't been back to my regular doctors because I'm afraid they'll scold me. God help me if I get sick! So I'm going to start walking again. The beautiful New Balance shoes that I bought in March ended up being a bad choice because my feet cramp in them, but I think they'll be okay for low-intensity walking. Maybe.