I will not talk about weight in 2011. That's one of my resolutions for next year.
I'm going to seal my mouth whenever I see an obese person even if deep inside I wanna tell them that they look like trucks with legs. I will never again berate my close friends about how their waistline is expanding three inches every time we meet, even if I know those are exactly the words they need to hear and they should be thanking me for telling them the sad truth. I will stop counting my friends' chins, or reminding them that their clavicles are suffocating.
I know that through the years I have been mean to people with a body mass index of more than 16. I'm not going to apologize for my behavior. Uhu, no way. But for next year I'd be kinder and embrace people even if I my hands don't meet at their back when I literally hug them.
You see, karma is a bitch. I've been gaining weight my self this year. I don't know how it happened, but twice I had to exchange trousers at the department store because I bought them TWO sizes smaller. It's tragic, I know.
It must be me hitting 30 this year. I've been developing a paunch that just does not want to go away no matter what I do. I've been following a strict diet of peanuts for dinner to no avail. I hardly eat these days, in fact.
I had to give away half of last season's trousers to charity. The baby tees don't fit me anymore, so I sent them to the orphanage as well.
I miss the good old days of me shopping in the teen's section because everything else is way too large for me then. I miss shopping at the women's rack in Zara where hefty women throw me envious looks whenever I grabbed size 26 jeans. Sigh.
As I said, karma is a bitch. A fierce, fierce bitch. It must be the universe getting back at me for my cruelty to fat people. It's a message I'm listening to, hence, the resolution not to talk about weight next year. This will be my last weight-related post. (Well, I'd try.)
And if it makes everyone happy, I'm confessing: I'm officially obese.