Not bad for a fat girl

A Shot of Pepto for Breakfast and Nothing to Wear

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Today is Sunday. It’s the last day of my glorious Spring Break. I say glorious not because of all the wonderful things I did or accomplished over said break. I say glorious because it gave me a chance to rest, which I desperately needed. Apparently I still need it.

Frankly I’m a little worried about going back to school tomorrow. All the little ones will be recharged and ready to go, but I’m still drained. I feel a bit like my old cell phone battery, I need to be powered up more and more regularly and I lose my charge faster. This illness, whatever it is, has knocked me out. Still coughing (less though, thankfully) and still low energy, but now a new twist… yep, tummy troubles.can-i-give-my-dog-pepto-bismol

Seriously, I slept relatively well, thanks to Mr. Nyquil and his magic medicine, but this morning was just no fun. I stumbled into the bathroom expecting the same old routine, but nope, surprise! My insides rebelled. At least I was in the right place at the right time. Mmm, nothing like some delicious, pink, Pepto Bismol to get the day started.

Eventually I managed to pull myself together enough to shower. A few minutes later I found myself standing in my closet faced with the remnants and reminders of a smaller me. Granted, not a much smaller me, but still.  As my eyes darted around, the seeds of panic began to take hold. I had nothing to wear.

“Calm down, it’s not a work day, you have options,” I told myself.

“Like what? Pajamas?!” I answered with maximum snark.

I took a deep breath and reminded myself that I wouldn’t talk to a friend like that, so I shouldn’t talk to myself that way. Then this gem slipped  out of my brain,

“Oh shut up, you need to face facts, you’re a whale.”


I grabbed a cute (huge) brown beaded tank top and a pair of (giant) olive-green (stretchy) shorts and got the hell out of there.

Note to self: Maybe it’s the only the Pepto talking, but stop being so MEAN to yourself!

other note to self: Do Your LAUNDRY! There are clothes in there that fit.

last note to self: Maybe it’s time to pick up a couple of pieces for the spring wardrobe.

Maybe I do need to go back to work. At least my dresses still fit.

P.S. Well no wonder. Today is March 15, the Ides of March. My father, who was not a superstitious man, always warned about the Ides of March. I know it’s from Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, and that there’s no logical foundation to it, but I still hear my father saying, “Beware the Ides of March.” Maybe I’ll just stay in today.

Author: BulgingButtons

I'm a middle aged woman doing the things that middle aged women do and trying not to beat myself up. I'm living the life I choose with the man I love, the grown up son who impresses me all the time, and the most adorable pup ever rescued from the euthanasia list. We live in the heat of the Southwest, where I regularly sweat through my Lane Bryant bras.

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