Taking a cue from one of my most favorite bloggers, Charlotte, I decided to take part in a “photo an hour” post. Of course, this will be a glimpse into the life of a fatty, not a beautiful, professionally photographed portrayal of someone anyone would be envious of.
So, you’ve been warned.
Today is the perfect day to do this as school was cancelled due to possible flooding. This means that the opportunities to get into some serious fatty predicaments are positively endless.
Let’s see what I ate (did):
I was really looking forward to wearing this bad boy to school, but the school district called a “flood day”. I was already dressed, and since my shirt rings true anywhere I go, I kept it on. This was taken around 9 AM as I headed to my favorite coffee/bakery/ultimate temptation shop.
When I got home, I checked the mail (this is real riveting stuff. Are you at the edge of your seat right about now?). To my delight, the mailbox wasn’t just full of bullshit don’t-bend-card-inside-just-kidding-made-ya-look mail. I got a Valentine from both my mom and my aunt. My mom knows how much my boyfriend and I like vintage stuff, so she sent two adorable cards from what looks like the 50s.
I decided to take advantage of today’s free day off instead of what I did last time. Last “snow day” I accomplished taking a nap and eating us out of house and home. So, I started the bajillions of laundry loads that always await me on the weekend. Three of those loads are merely comprised of sheets. I.hate.laundry.so.fucking.much.
Pizza Pringles are what all mature, physically fit, health conscious adult women buy and eat for lunch. (Spoiler alert: I’m not eating a real lunch so that I can be extra hungry for Texas Roadhouse later. An entire cylinder of Pringles is practically nothing).
Because I’ve had Typhoid Fever for a week now, I made myself some delicious herbal tea with Coffeemate coconut-flavored creamer. I know how to make literally anything unhealthy. If you ever need any help with that, I’m your gal!
At this point in my day, I’m positively famished. Like the fatty geriatrics that we are, we left for dinner at precisely 4:27 PM. My fat pants were practically falling off of me after my agonizing fast.
And…I think that’s a wrap, folks.
If this taught me anything, it’s that I have a really fucking boring life. I need to start going to the gym or something. Good gracious.