I am rapidly expanding. Well, I've put on two and a half inches in two weeks, which I feel is an expansion of rapidness. I asked Anna if she thought I looked any bigger. She drags her eyes away from Coupling and surveys my figure as I twist about in front of the mirror.
"Yes, you do," she says.
Good bigger, or bad bigger?
"I don't know," she replies distractedly. "Good bigger?"
I need honesty.
Anna sighs and eyes my waistline. "Well, your stomach would look smaller if you breathed in."
Okay, maybe I'm being a little drastic. I am slim - ask anyone - but I'm putting weight on fast. And breakfast is the culprit. The scales were dusted down and stepped upon. Thirty seconds later I took a deep breath and actually looked at the dial. I stepped off. Then repeated the process another two times. This is the problem when you have a fully carpeted bathroom: the scales only work on a flat surface, so you have to weigh yourself three times and use the average measurement. My average was okay. I was hoping to be half a stone under my result.
My father doesn't understand my obsession. When I told him my weight, he said, "Even if you were four stone over that you'd still carry it off."
Unfortunately, it doesn't compensate for the fact that I feel like a whale. Still, only another two weeks and January is over. You can still get gym discounts in February, right?
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