Tanita is a Japanese company is well know for making some of the best and most accurate weigh scales. I try to stay away from the lying cheating ego busting device who measures me down to the tenth of a pound. But it sat there all smiling at me this morning, I figured it needed some love. FAT BASTARD. If only the LCD display could show that. But instead it displayed the Gross National Product of Guam.
I am officially into fat fuck territory which I deem myself whenever I’m 10 lbs outside of my target. Lots of travel make my normal low carb diet desire hard to maintain. Eating at McDonald’s is a definite no no and that Gorgonzola pasta I fixed up last night probably wasn’t such a great idea washed down with some Ben n’ Jerry’s Cherry Garcia ice cream probably didn’t help the cause. I’m not going to starve so you can stop sending me cans of food. I have renewed vigor to minimize the jiggle parts.
Meanwhile, back in Toronto and still under the kitchen table yelping away, TC is lamenting how I’m ruining his life and that he has no stability because of me. It’s the blame game with the twist of a little brown paw periodically seen swiping at me from under the table. The bad news I delivered, life does indeed get more complicated as you get older.
Last week, one of the guys I’d meet from the gay social event, text’d me. Now if you’ll remember I gave him my telephone number (he didn’t offer his own). I’m not sure what it is with homos. But he was texting away with me for 20 minutes. The classic, what are you doing, where are you going. Now you must remember this guy lives in the same apartment building as me, so he’s like 100 feet away from me. Worse, he’s not some 20-something knucklehead, he is a supposed mature adult.
What is up with all this text’ing? I asked if he wanted to get together for coffee or drink and he basically told me his social schedule, all full up until Christimas — 2011. I’m not sure what the point of all his messages and quickly tired of the whole thing. I need a decision, what do you want me to do?
I’m afraid he was likely trying to figure out what to do himself, scared perhaps to show too much of his hand, hoping to sort me out a bit further, hedging his bets on better offers. Whatever, I don’t have time for that shit, but please have a point when you deal with me.