5 Reasons Teaching Made (Is Making) Me (More) Fat

There’s a reason I’m fat, and it isn’t just because I eat Oreos smothered with peanut butter for breakfast.

It’s because I’m a teacher. This profession is rife with situations in which I’m faced with deciding between a few sad, old grapes or Krispy Kreme. Some days my big decision of the day is whether or not to eat the sweaty, homemade, hand delivered cookie. Sadly, the questionable cookie always wins. Mostly, being a teacher means you either drink or you check yourself into the mental hospital. Drinking excessively is more socially acceptable. Also, being clinically insane isn’t usually seen as a desired quality in the teaching world.

It’s not even fair.

It’s like the powers that be have some secret conspiracy to turn all of the young, mildly overweight, and somewhat trendy teachers into embroidered-denim-muumuu-and-Christmas-vest-wearing monstrosities with wine and carb addictions.

I’m fast approaching the day when I eventually give up and wear a printed turtleneck to school, because it hides my chin waggle, as I say for the fortieth time in one day, “You turn your work in in the turn in basket. You know, that basket, right by the pencils, that says, Turn in here!

Here are the five reasons I’ll soon be that teacher who wears nylons with my New Balance, because it’s simultaneously comfortable and “slimming”.

Successes

When Johnny finally gets that 3 x 3 is 9 and not 6, it is time to un-cork the champagne. If champagne is not available, an entire pint of Ben & Jerry’s is a sufficient stand in. When you’re a teacher (especially one at a Title 1 school*), you become an emotional eater. When 3rd grader Sarah doesn’t come to school wearing a full-on Kylie Jenner-worthy face full of makeup, and you know that she just might get to be kid for the day, you celebrate by eating an entire sleeve of birthday cake Oreos, while crying at your desk during recess. At a Title 1 school, it’s the small things.

Failures

When the majority of your students bomb a test that you have been prepping them for for the entire week with nothing less than choreographed song and dance, you head straight to the teacher’s lounge at lunch and stuff your face with stale donuts and the bottom bits of a bowl of popcorn that had God-only-knows how many hands in it.

What-The-Actual-Fucks

When you spend the entire day as an overpaid babysitter, and you actually taught for all of 20 minutes, it definitely means stuffing your waiting gob with anything within reach. Nothing less than 200 calories a serving will do. You also might stop by the grocery store on the way home to buy a bottle of Framboise, fully intending on drinking the entire thing straight from the bottle. Glasses are for office workers.

Paid Lunches and Goodies

Right when you decide to finally get your act together, diet-wise, it is Payday Luncheon Day. There is nothing better than free teacher food. Teachers know how to put out a mighty spread. Well, most do. Some teachers feel the need to push their healthy agenda on others by bringing kale salad or veggie trays with.no.ranch to “Goody Table Day”. These teachers are not human and, therefore, cannot be trusted. Actually, these teachers are the only ones who won’t die of diabetes.

Professional Development Days

When you get to leave the classroom on a regular school day, it’s like the gates of Heaven open and the sounds of angelic voices ring out. It is freaking the best. What paid training and professional days mean is A FULL HOUR OF LUNCH WITH NO CHILDREN IN SIGHT. I don’t know what it is about getting to eat out at a restaurant with your fellow comrades, while a sub gets to eat a frozen dinner, instead of you, but it just tastes so damn good.  It’s not like you weren’t just at Red Robin this past weekend, but child-free lunch is the best thing to ever happen to teachers. Naturally, a salad is not the appropriate choice when celebrating a stress-free lunch. Only greasy, burgers, oozing with cheese will do.

In ending, until I decide that teaching is hazardous to my health, I will continue to make poor food choices. It is either that, or I go certifiably insane.

Food is my lifeline, folks.

*Title 1 teachers are especially susceptible to the Fatty Life.

Author: fattymccupcakes

Just a thirty-something girl trying to love herself the way she is: fat, rolls, cellulite, and fabulousness.

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