Thirty-one days…

Okay, my topic for today is definitely going to be trivial and vain!  I’m giving you fair warning, just in case you want to click off the page…

I have thirty-one days until my 40th birthday, and then promptly the next morning, I will be leaving on a jet plane to celebrate.  This means I have thirty-two days until I must publicly wear a bathing suit.  Can you hear my sobs of distress from where you are reading this?  I’ve lost enough weight to look decent in skinny jeans, but a bathing suit? Well, that is a much different story all together.  I am going to be on the hunt for a new one.  I’ve looked at the miracle suits manufacturers are selling, but I need a waaaaaaaayyy larger miracle than those suits are offering!

When I was younger, even if I gained a little weight, everything was at least tight.  Nothing is tight anymore.  My tummy is bad, but I can cover that.  My arms are the worst.  There is nothing like writing on a chalkboard in front of a classroom full of kids and losing complete focus because you can feel the fat under your arm jiggling!  EWWW… I hope you aren’t eating anything at the moment.  If you are, I apologize for the nausea which has probably just set in to  the pit of your stomach.  I’ve actually tried holding the jiggling portion with my other hand while writing only to be asked, “Mrs. Kostick, is your arm alright?”   I, of course, respond that I am fine.  What I want to say is, “I don’t want to burn this flabby, white fat chunk image into your head and ruin your lunch!  Enough with the questions, kid!”  However, I just answer kindly, smile, and move on to the next topic.

I need to lift weights, do pushups, and convert this fat into muscle!  Wow, if that is how it really works, I will have some HUGE muscles…  The problem is all I want to do right now is take a nap and merely dream of nice, thin, tight, and shapely arms.  Good Lord… only thirty-two days until bathing suit land.  I’m in trouble.  Big trouble!

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