Fatty McButterpants

So. None of my clothes fit. Well, none of my clothes that have zippers and a button and are required to close around the general vicinity of my mid-section. Otherwise known as pants. Or shorts. Or skirts.

That’s not entirely true. I can zip and button myself, but not without worrying that someone is going to ask me if I want jelly with my muffins. :(

In the past two weeks, I have eaten, or should I say inhaled, 2 pints of ice cream, 1 1/2 lbs of fudge, 4 candy bars, 4 s'mores, marshmallow candies, and as I type this I'm trying not to get Doritos on the keyboard.

I wish I were pregnant so I could at least console myself by saying I was eating for two, but the only other person I'm feeding is Mr. Pudge, the circle of fat that's hanging out right below my belly button.

Do you think I can pull a Mariah Carey and just cut off the waistband of my pants a la Heartbreak video, or just stick to wearing elastic waist pants a la Golden Girls?

Honest to blog, I am going with option B. I'm too fat and too tired to cut the tops off all my pants. Check out Exhibit A, elastic waist shorts. Thank heaven for softees.

The only good thing is that my boobs are HUGE, GINORMOUS, GARGANTUAN! Well, they're big to me. My husband J. likes to say that they used to be like grapes, but now they are like oranges. If I keep gaining weight I'll have canteloupes before the year is over.

I need to get back on diet and exercise plan, STAT. I am going to start spinning today. I hope I don't pass out and die.