This Post Will Remain Untitled

So, a few months ago I joined the YMCA. I have access to a free gym at work, but I decided at the time the Y would be easier for a couple of reasons: 1. Sailors are disgusting and I'd have to put up with them while trying to concentrate on not looking like a moron on the treadmill and 2. There's always creepy old retired dudes at the pool and I'm not all hot on the idea of having some 90 y/o dude watching me as I do the dash from the bleachers to the pool in an effort to lessen the amount of time peeps are seeing me in a bathing suit (TRUE FAX: I had to don a bathing suit once in front of half of my police department because we were required to take a swim qual to stay on our patrol boats. Granted, I had to see those guys in a bathing suit as well, and it was not a pretty sight (MY EYES, THEY BURNED!), but still. That was probably the most humiliating day of my whole entire life.).

Well, I stuck with the workout for a while but then decided to up and quit. Why, you ask? Because I am lazy. The thing is, I want to go back and I want to work out but my job really sucks the life out of me. Well, not my job, really, but a bastard named Napoleon. Plus I work with bytchface assholes as well as for bytchface assholes. So, after an eight hour shift, which usually feels double that, I'm ready to lock myself away in my humble abode until the sun sets and it's time for me to go back to that soul sucking place I call work. I really just don't have the effort to get in my car, drive to the Y, work out, then drive back home. Just typing that sentence made me tired.

Thing is, I (ooooo Golden Girls is on!!!) really hate the way I look. I have a closet full of clothing that doesn't fit any more. I visit Goodwill every week and pick up things that I know won't fit, but decide to purchase anyway hoping I'll one day get back down to the size I was before I came to Washington. Growing up, I was a stick; active and full of energy, up until puberty set in and decided to curse me with an ass that's roughly two axe handles wide. Then life hit and it was just all downhill from there. And this rut I'm currently in isn't helping a bit.

I started to go back to the eating habits of old, surviving on chicken noodle soup and salad only, knowing it wasn't the healthiest, but not really caring because I knew it'd whittle me back down to nothing. I gave that up pretty quickly because I didn't want to have the perpetual headache and dizziness that I lived during the roughly four years I had that disorder. I figured it wasn't the greatest thing I could do, seeing as how people depend on me every day and passing out at work wouldn't look so great.

Of course hearing comments such as "thunder thighs" (HINT: It's totally not a funny thing to say to a woman ever even if you preclude it with a "I'm just kidding., The woman is still apt to kill you and no jury in the world would convict her) and even having your own brother tell you "I heard you got fat" hit me hard. Which is probably why I shun the public because if your own family thinks you're fat, what the hell could other people be thinking? I know I've told you all about the comments I had growing up, when I was a healthy, thin girl. Well, now that I'm a fatass (who, according to her recent physical, is still pretty damn healthy so yay me), every comment hits even harder. I wish I could just hide from everyone forever until I'm back to my healthy weight.

But, dammit, it's so fucking hard. Work makes me tired all the time and unmotivated. Because of that, I usually end up sleeping all day and grabbing take out every day at work. I get that one meal and maybe some snacks and that's pretty much all I consume for the whole day. Even on my days off I tend to grab only one meal, but it's never healthy. So I guess that doesn't help.

November, however, is looming and I want to look fabulous when I see you all down in LA. And if I'm not, I'm not going, I've already decided that. Plus, I'd like to not spend any money on getting new clothes because I'm cheap as well as lazy. So, I've been looking at Weight Watchers (but I can't figure out how to get a meal plan or something) and trying to get dedicated to this whole working out thing (which you wouldn't think would be a problem since I used to work out all the time before I joined the PD). My whole goal is to look like this by November:
I really think I can do it. I mean I've a realistic goal to meet. And I think I'll post updates right here. And maybe even pictures.

I'm not really sure what I wanted to post here. So, I'm sorry for the way the post bounces around and it's probably a bitch to read. Forgive me. Here's a picture of Prince Carl Philip because he is hot and I can't believe I forgot all about him.

Oooo, look, here's a shirtless pic.
And a dirty pic.
I will refrain from making any lewd comments because I am much too mature for that (not really)

Le sigh, he's the most adorable royal I know.