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Perhaps it would have been easier if I were an alcoholic. Being a drug addict would have been too damned complicated. (You want me to mix what with what and inject it where???) Besides, my brother already has the market cornered on that dysfunction. Nearly everyone else in the family has been an alcoholic -- so perhaps my family would have paid more attention. Instead, they just assume I'm sitting around the house eating bon-bons while my housekeeper and nanny take care of my household responsibilities, including the kids.
OK. Yes, I have someone come in once a week and clean the house. She takes a layer off. I don't mind cleaning house when I have time, but I don't think I was put on this earth to clean. Sorry. There has got to be better stuff to do. Criticism from people who can't even see their floor doesn't really do much for me anyway. And as far as my nannies go -- I could lose my mind or hire a sitter here and there. Let's have a parenting contest and see who wins. Get off my ass for god sakes.
So now, since I'm clearly fat and lazy with no will power, those in the know are suggesting I have bariatric surgery.
I swear to God in heaven if one more person suggests that, I'm going to lose my ever lovin mind. If my weight problem had something to do with what I eat, it might be a different story. If I was drinking heavily I probably wouldn't be fat -- but would they suggest surgery? Probably not.
So it seems now I have an eating disorder, sleeping disorder and an attention disorder. Could I get more screwed up?
But here's the deal. I have the eating disorder about conquered. There is surgery available to fix the sleeping disorder. And as to the attention disorder -- I decided I would do some research and make the "disorder" work for me. I actually think the ADD thing could work with me and I think I'd be boring without it.
Everyone else can keep their judgements to themselves. This whole fat phobia thing and judgement is enough to make my head spin. I'm going to have to lead a revolution.
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1 comment:
I cannot believe that anybody who knows you would even for a moment think that you are lazy. Clearly, they are not paying attention. Good Lord, you blow into rooms, you throw yourself into fifty different things at once, that's not lazy.
Mind you, at your normal pace, I'm not surprised you feel like just sinking into the sofa or a chair or the carpet when you get home, rather than mopping the kitchen floor. It's what I do after teaching, and I don't have to come home to children.
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