I'm wearing my Seven For All Mankind jeans, the ones I bought just before Bloomingdale's at the Mall of America went under. Like the jeans I wore two weeks ago, I think they're a little small for me, even though I didn't have as much trouble getting into them like I did with those.
Still, I can feel my gut just hanging out over the top of them, and today, moreso than any other day so far, it's really bothering me. I have had time to exercise, and yet I notice and can't help but grabbing my fat stomach at all hours of the day now.
It has to be the food. With all this time on my hands, and with the need for me to act like I'm working right now, the first thing I do is get breakfast. Sometimes around noon I get lunch, too. And then I have dinner when I get home, and I can't stop myself in front of the parents who shove food in front of me. So now I'm fat, and I can't lose weight no matter how much I work out.
My Father once again leaves me hard-boiled eggs to eat, and while I appreciate the gesture, I now have to start off my day with breakfast and then eat breakfast again. This time I went to a local diner I hadn't been in in years, because I don't know the next time I'll have time to go. There is no consensus on the Internet on what to eat there, but after I sat down and felt my stomach press up against my jeans (again), I decided to eschew any big plates and settled instead for a pancake and hash browns with a small orange juice (which, to their credit, were really good).
But now I'm trying to save my stomach here at this new coffeehouse that apparently opened up only recently and had a rave review on the Minneapolis branch of the dining out website Eater. Just had coffee, great single-drip craft coffee, but I can feel myself packing on the pounds. Not good.
I now have to go work now. Later I'm volunteering for something. Two more attempts to slim down.
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