Monday, August 11, 2014

My ever increasing waistline

Even XL shirts feel too tight around my shoulders. They don't sit right around my waste, either. How can that be? They didn't used to feel this way.  They used to feel comfortable. Perhaps the fat on the back is pulling them towards the fat on the front. That must be it. There is a space battle happening and I am beginning to resemble the shape of the Death Star.

Each time the moon passes I feel a slow tugging move across my belly from one side to the other, then around the back.

I sweat too much now, also. It makes its way through the shirt faster than it did in my younger years. I feel best when I take the shirt off, but not when anybody else is there. Anybody except the boy, Rhys. He accepts me as I am. He runs around naked as often as possible so he understands the value of being unrobed. 

Maybe that's what I need, a robe? That suits being fat perfectly. A robe will make me feel much better. Who can question the wearing of a robe in public? Maybe even at work. I could make it an HR issue. The employee manual is curiously silent on robe wearing. Perhaps I could claim to have become a sultan and it is part of my required religious garb. 

Don't dare questions my freedoms.

Shit... I have run out of time to write any more today. 

I am at work and do not have a robe to distract from my egregiously poor work practices and performance.

Whenever I take a nap here I always wake up by raising my head slowly and saying, "Amen!"

It helps.