The Incredible Shrinking…Woman

I’ve been sick for two months.

I don’t know if it’s a persistent sinus infection, or overactive allergies, or if that alien implant in my brain is giving me trouble again. The bad news is, I’m exhausted all the time. Especially at work, which requires me to be on my feet all day. The good news is, I’ve lost weight. I now fit into pants I haven’t fit into since 2009.

Have I made any real effort to lose this weight? Nope. Unless you count swallowing a daily Mucinex and a large receptacle of green tea just to get through my day. I also have been living off deli sandwiches. My grandma asked me if this made me like Jared from Subway. Yes, grandma, yes. Minus the unfortunate affinity for child pornography.

But on to *ahem* lighter subjects. Here is a photo from my college years, when I was a mere impression of a thing, approximately 90 pounds. That's me on the right, next to my super-fit sister. Holy Gods, BITCH WAS SKINNY.

And here is a photo of me at my heaviest, when I weighed approximately the same as the house that flattened the Wicked Witch of the East. Nine months pregnant. Hungry every step of the way (though clearly I did not miss any meals). BITCH WAS LARGE AND IN CHARGE.

And me at my lightest since my early twenties, when I was eating an iceberg salad for lunch every day and working out consistently. I weighed about 120, but DAMN, BITCH WAS STARVING.

I am now blissfully between these healthy and unhealthy weights. Still overweight, not obese. A medium instead of a large. I’d sure like to lose the tummy that has plagued me since baby, and that has stayed with me since beer. But that might require a little thing called exercise. And right now, BITCH HATH NO ENERGY.

Alleviating the energy issue may require more antibiotics, or an allergy pill combined with a decongestant. Each has its respective consequences. Antibiotics generally put my system off-kilter. Decongestants help a great deal with some physical symptoms, yet also raise my blood pressure considerably. Plus they make me high-as-a-kite-euphoric, which is not good considering my potentially manic mental malady. ESSENTIALLY, BITCH GOES CRAZY.

The alternative? Just stay sick. And waste away to nothing. Lay me where sad, true lover never find my grave to weep there. And all that jazz. Because BITCH IS A TAD MELODRAMATIC AT TIMES.

A popular theory (one I often consider, because frankly, BITCH DOES NOT SCIENCE), is that I am simply allergic to something at work. Or that I am allergic to work. One of the two. Either way my symptoms are aggravated at work. I must carry tissues with me wherever I roam on the apparel floor. THAT IS ONE SNOTTY BITCH.

Me and my persistent case of sniffles are off to enjoy the snow day.

Later, bitches.