Thoughts of a delirious mind. Not worth reading.
It’s after a lot of RSI (repetitive strain injury) on my inflated ego that I thought I’d finally write something on this. Excuse me if this sounds like unmistakable narcissism. It’s actually quite the opposite. I hate my shape…and the peripheral feelings that come with having to deal with obesity.
Point is, I am gradually becoming a shipping hazard. I used to fit in denims…but I don’t anymore. I used to look acceptable in sleeveless Kutras…now I hide under oversized clothes that resemble ugly pillow cases. I used to wear matching accessories. Now I feel too much like a pasta-mama who deserves to hide.
Do I sound like an adolescent? Perhaps I do. But how do you deal with crazy routines and still fit into that cosmic latte skirt that you bought nearly with half your salary?
Sample the conversation with my alter ego:
My day starts with no-exercise ______aha! that’s it…you fatso should just move it_____I am only too tired from sleeping late____why did you sleep late?____there was a mammoth power cut_____ok then what?____I cook and manage the maid_____by the time she is gone, its already too late____so?_____I get a bath and get dressed______work huh?______yeah, and would you believe? I feel like moving jello when I walk those few steps to the reception; the wind blows in the opposite direction; my hair blows up like a set of electric wires, and my Kurta flies up…and those thunder thighs!_____so don’t use the elevator, just walk____duh! It’s on the 6th floor_____so wake up in the morning and go for a jog____you know how it is; people shit all over the place____you’re just creating an excuse, you loser!_____ I know, and I also have BED______yeah I know you have a bed______not a bed! I have BED; binge-eating disorder______get lost! You deserve your size and shape!
And that’s how it ends. Maybe I should just leave work, quit social life, go to the mountains and become a hermit…a big fat hermit. These are just thoughts of a delirious mind. Not worth reading.
