Generally Speaking was all about documenting unemployment and ventures into higher education. Since I found full time work and joined the ranks of the underemployed (putting school on hold for, you know, when I can afford it or have the motivation to succeed at it) I haven’t had a lot to write about. Now, don’t get me wrong, having spent 7 months literally begging employers to even LOOK at my resume, I have a healthy appreciation for the job I have. My company is big; I work with a very close friend, and have amazing managers. I mean no offense to my title or fellow workers who do the same but an untrained, slower than average monkey could do our job. Its frustrating, boring, and sometimes down right unsettling to feel this stuck in an unfulfilling job. Understanding what little effort goes into dozens of form letters aside, I could stand to earn a few more bucks an hour, if not get on salary.
As it stands, these days it seems like I’m always one more bill away from living under an overpass and luxuries are damn near nonexistent. One of the most loved things to go by the way-side was my personal trainer Lewis. In a way, Lewis was a blessing and a curse; the blessing was that I literally have never looked as good in my LIFE as I did over the summer; the curse is that I am totally and utterly unable to workout without him. I promised myself countless times that after the pageant I wouldn’t puff up like an inflating hot-air balloon, but here we are. I knew what a bitch it was to lose that weight but did my stomach listen? Absolutely not. Did I show any real maturity or self control when it came time to eat things like double pasta or baked potatoes the size of my foot? Not remotely. Although I’ve enjoyed every bit of eating and drinking, I don’t enjoy exploding out of the pants that can’t be let out or replaced with a new pair because of said monetary concerns.
It might seem unoriginal as Miss Jen Lancaster did pretty much the same thing in her hysterical best seller “Such a Pretty Fat” (you should buy and read everything she writes because she makes Carlin look like a hack) but I’m going to attempt to document my trails in weight loss while not being able to afford healthy food and a personal trainer all while lacking the ability to ‘just say no’ to beer during Monday night football.
-Here’s to no longer fearing my pants are going to rip while bending over to file!