Written in December 2007
Ok... so I had put on what I call.... relationship weight. I hadbeen dating my ex-boyfriend for more than a year. Both of us had gotten comfortable with each other. He liked the fact that I am not high maintenance when I order food, like some women. But, often, that translates to eating crappy food.
I have been wearing the same pants that I used to wear when actually was skinny. Every morning I squeeze myself into these pants and count the minutes down until I can get out of them. Well, today, my pants had a different idea for me.
This morning I had an important meeting with some big wigs. These meetings are obnoxiously long, but food and beverages are always served. In these meetings one must drink coffee in order stay awake and be able to pay attention, so I did. I was trying to be more aware of what I eat, so I also drank a bottle of water too! Well, about halfway through the meeting I had to pee. The meeting was droning on, people were arguing about something unimportant. With every change in conversation, my attention drifted back to my bladder. Every other minute I shifted in my seat, I would briefly find a postition in which I could hold it a little better, and then it would come back to me... I had to pee. My boss's phone rang... I had my salvation... I ran to the bathroom.
I opened the door and went. RELIEF! I pulled up my pants quickly, rushing to get back to the meeting to beat my boss before the meeting started again, but then the worst happened. My pants wouldn't zip all the way. About three quarters of the way up the little black zipper just decided to tell me how fat I had actually become. It refused to go any farther. I panicked... I no longer cared about getting back to the meeting before my boss, I just needed to get back to the meeting with my pants zipped up.
I cursed that cookie that I ate about ten minutes before, I hated those m and ms that I popped in my mouth earlier that morning, and all that I could think about was why didn't I work out yesterday? I sucked in my stomach, and tried again. Nothing. I tried the ever popular jump and zip, it had worked for me in the past. Nothing. After twenty tries my fingers were beginning to raw and I was sure that everyone in that meeting wondered where I could have slipped off to. All that I could think about was what I had eaten the night before.
It finally inched shut. I breathed... but not too deeply, it was closed. By this point, my fingers were red, and my brow was slick with sweat, relief, my pants were closed. Back to the boredom I went with pants fully zipped and a resolution to work out that night.