Belly Fat Blues

I never figured myself for the type who frets about belly fat, but here I am.

Yo-yo diets? Whack. Cardio and 5 lb weights? WHACK. But my lifestyle has always been pretty moderate. I eat fast food infrequently, and my adult life has been spent almost exclusively working on my feet. I’ve weighed a reasonable 140 lbs with minimal effort for about as long as I can remember, and definitely looked it. If there was any extra goo around my mid-section, I assume stress from the mental illness I was pretending not to have was burning it up.

Then I got a job at McDonald’s, which is where I guess things started to change. I was foolish to believe the usual scurrying of a foodservice job could undo so much junk. Do you even know how many McDoubles and milkshakes I ate in those six months?

……Well, it was a lot. But I piled lettuce, tomatoes, and pickles on them, so that counts for something, right? Lol, no, it doesn’t. American cheese is American cheese, and it doesn’t belong in your body.

A large sized denial is absolutely free. In fact, supersize it.

I quit that job for a number of reasons at the beginning of the pandemic in favor of Instacart, also for a number of reasons. The moderate exercise would be a bonus, I figured; but the equal amount of…