AND..(if you have a history of heart problems and/or defects- please stop reading here. I will not be held responsible for your death) I bought winter boots. I haven't had winter boots since third grade and I didn't wear them either. (Sorry mom, Travis and I would take those off in the bus as soon as we got on. It's really uncool to have boots. And snowpants. Sorry you wasted the money..)
I bought the boots the same day (but earlier) and they are chocolate brown with fur! They actually are warm but don't go any higher than my ankle. Which Matt tells me will be useless in the event I have to walk where snow has not been shoveled. But whatevs. Fashion stops at nothing, and they are better than high heels. It's not like I'm doing outside activities anyways.
God- I really couldn't even take a picture of this because it is so bad. Do you remember waaaaaay back when I posted my weight on here? You know, that brief moment in time when I went bat shit crazy? OK, well I'm totally doing it again. It is....
At least it's lower!! If I did my math correctly it's 4.4 lower! And I feel fatter. Please explain this cosmo bullshit because I? Am starving. I'm so hungry I could eat a child.
Save the kids!
I mean really, they are so cute. At least they were yesterday (which is when I took this) because today? The tantrums are unbearable and I've got a headache.
Since I'm essentially a lazy person I really don't enjoy exercising. At all. And I never really had to until I had kids because I was all thinner, I still have no idea what it's like to buy pants in the single digits, but I was at my skinniest when working at Dairy Queen and then Culver's. Go figure.
But since I'm so lazy and it's all cold, snowy, and now icy outside, I can't really walk outside. So right now, until I purchase a treadmill, my only weight loss options are bulimia and anorexia. Now, anorexia is probably the least amount of work since you literally do nothing. Except that I do get hungry and I have cravings like a 9 month pregnant woman all of the time. Baby onboard or not. (which was FABULOUS when I was pregnant because I was able to convince Matt to drive to places at all hours of the night to satisfy these. He has since stopped doing this which is lame). So then that leaves me bulimia. Which, disgusting. I don't think anyone can throw up gracefully and I hate throwing up. The whole process and mental pictures of my insides revolting just make it infinitely worse. And then I remember the time I was 6 months pregnant with Olivia, had Matt get me the biggest bucket of popcorn from the movie theatre (he went and got it so I could eat it at home), literally ate it all in 20 minutes and 10 minutes later puked the entire thing up. If you've ever puked popcorn you can appreciate it. Can't eat popcorn to this day.
Which hey- TMI! So bulimia is out. Obviously. What am I doing? Smaller portions. I had 5 almonds for breakfast and stared longingly at the bag of spicy nacho doritos. Oh, I just want to eat you up. But I can't. Because I am a fat ass desperate to get smaller. I refuse to buy clothes in the fat girl store. I will not do it. I will not do it. I'll go bulimic before that happens.