In these past few weeks of convalescence, during which a majority of my time was spent with my ankle elevated and my nose in a book, my BFA has grown, as has my stomach and my thighs and I’m feeling pretty darned unattractive. I do not like this, Sam-I-Am, not in a boat and not with a goat, not in my sleep, and not with a sheep.
Before ankle breakage, I was exercising by pushing the Pint-filled jogging stroller in the mornings around a neighborly three-mile loop. My thighs were just beginning to realize that muscles still exist, though quietly, under their flab, and my buns of the-farthest-thing-from-steel were awakening.
Then, I fell off my shoes and everything I had started came to a screeching halt. This is not good; this is not right; my fat is straining my seams too tight.
Yes, I have been reading a little too much Dr. Seuss lately. How’d you know?
So yesterday, I was shopping in Borders since today is the Exalted One’s birthday when I came upon a book, Eat, Drink, and Be Gorgeous(see Amazon box in far left column for link).
From the flap: It’s all about balance. Indulging to satiate, not saturate. No diets, no gimmicks, just real solutions to get the body and mind you want. Esther debates the merits of Chardonnay versus a Cosmo, and prescribes ways to eat to rev up your sex drive, nip a hangover in the bud, combat out-of-control hormones, and more.
Yup, I bought it. I realize it’s hubby’s birthday but if it works, it will be a present for us both. ;-)
Once again, Happy Birthday David. At 45, you still cut a fine figure, that you do. If only I could do as well, aye?