In recent weeks I have somehow become prone to car sickness. And when I mean prone, I mean, like, all the effing time. I don’t know what it is. Maybe it was over that one day I got sick after eating something that had gone bad, because we all know how I like to eat nasty crap. I mean, I don’t intentionally eat things that have gone bad, it’s just that this day I was really hungry and desperate enough to think to myself: “It’s only been two days. AND it’s been in the fridge. AND my dad did say food is still good even after it’s been in there for a week.” (Which, by the way, I fully denied and cringed at in disgust when he told me this nifty, little fact. So clearly, I was really hungry and really desperate.)
So on the way home from Long Beach tonight, I started to feel sick again and mentioned it to my mom. I don’t know what it is with my mom about starting a conversation twenty minutes after the subject has been brought up, but this is what she did. Randomly (and twenty minutes late) she goes and says: “You know, the reason why you and I are getting sick a lot probably has something to do with our weight.” Thanks, Mom. Thanks. “Because I noticed that I only started to get heartburn after I gained weight, and lately I’ve been getting nauseous too.” Oh, that’s nice. “We have to watch what we eat, Katie.” No seriously, Mom, I stopped listening to you after you mentioned my weight.
I am crying inside. The little girl in me is crying. The one on the outside is whining, and fake crying. When you know you’re supposed to do the “right thing” and “what’s best” for you and “eat healthy”, but you don’t want to. But really, I know all of this. It’s just difficult to stomach after it’s been told to you straight. (GET IT?!) Anyways, I know I should be hitting the gym more often, but I’ve been using the excuse that it’s probably shit-crazy in there right after New Year’s, you know, with all the New Years resolutions and all. I figured I could wait a week or two for things to slow down, because that’s usually the amount of time it takes for people to realize that they’ve been going to the gym everyday (give or take a few days) and it’s about time they get a reward for it. A.K.A. a Cinnabon, or a Krispy Kream original glaze, or a whole, mother-effing chocolate cake. Hey! Hey, you! You see that? That’s your New Years resolution, in the form of 200 to 1000 calories, IN ONE SERVING, down the toilet. Literally.
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