Tuesday, November 22, 2005

An Open Letter to My Body

Dear Body:

I feel like we’re having a failure to communicate here. I want to get things out into the open.

I think I treat you pretty damn well, but I feel you are betraying me. I give you regular exercise and I fill you to the brim every day with filtered water and a variety of fresh vegetables. I treat you to the occasional high-quality chocolate treat or a delicious beer or smoky-peat-flavoured whisky. Speaking of smoking, we don’t do it, ever, and we don’t hang out in places with people who do.

We have low blood pressure and we get at least 7 hours of sleep every night. I do all of this for us and I do not understand how you repay us.

First of all, there’s the little matter of weight gain. What the hell is up with that? How do you explain it? Yes, our clothes still fit, but that’s not the point. I know we’ve larded up and you know we’ve larded up, even if it’s not obvious to all and sundry. I know the cold winter is coming and I know we now live in a country with a history of famine, but, you know, central heating and the Celtic Tiger have made those dangers very dim for us. Trust me on this.

Then, there’s the whole wonky knee issue. I don’t know what’s wrong with it, but can you please make sure it keeps itself together and gets through camogie season? I promise we’ll see a physical therapist and get it sorted out if you can just last through one more training. Just try to keep the damn thing out of the way of sliotars and hurleys and the gym walls, okay?

Where are you going, Body? I’m not done with you. I’ve saved the worst for last. Now, I know we live with someone’s parents. I know we have a learner’s permit instead of a full driver’s license. I know that we recently spent the night babysitting. But all this does not mean that we are 16 again. So please, for the love of all that is good and holy, do something about the acne! You’re killing me here. We’re a grown-up now – we've already put in our time looking like the Before Girl in the Clearasil ad and it is not the sort of character-building experience that we are looking to repeat.

I do a lot for you, Body, and all I am asking for is a little consideration. I don’t want to have to threaten you, but if things don’t change around here, I imagine your coffee supply might be in danger. I also imagine that we might have to enlist the help of a personal trainer who will make our old trainer, Satan, look like a fluffy, doped-up kitten.

Please consider this your two-week warning. I shall be forced to take more drastic action if things don’t start to change by then.

Thank you for your time and consideration.

Love,
Ann

6 Comments:

At 22 November 2005 at 22:57, Blogger Lex Fori said...

Heehee. Good stuff.

Try moving to a hellishly hot desert. That seems to have dealt with my similiar problems. Feel the burn. Literally.

Fortunately, you have already landed one. Peter is locked in - weight gain and unsightly skin be damned.

;)

 
At 22 November 2005 at 23:20, Blogger weese said...

ha.. good one.
say - how old are you? :o)

 
At 23 November 2005 at 17:15, Blogger -Ann said...

Yes, Peter is locked in as it were. Plus, to his credit, when we met, I was a Fat Girl (tm). Fact is, my larding up bothers me way more than it bothers him. The only thing that bothers him is the constant stream of "Does my ass look big in this?" "Do I look fat?" "I gained a pound!" "I can't seem to lose weight at all!" that is constantly issuing forth from my gaping maw.

I'm 33 but I tend to wear my hair in two braids, which, along with the blemishes, gives me the look of a younger person. :)

 
At 24 November 2005 at 03:14, Blogger Career Guy said...

Don't you feel flattered when they card you at a bar? (Or don't they do that over there?)

 
At 24 November 2005 at 05:05, Blogger -Ann said...

No, the drinking age over here is 18. I've never been carded over here - not even when I was over the first time and was only 22. I don't even think I've ever seen anyone get carded either.

 
At 24 November 2005 at 05:48, Blogger Jack's Shack said...

That made me smile. I may need to send a copy to my body, with a few minor adjustments.

 

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