Getting Old Sucks

So since it is ridiculously hot this summer, I had to go out this past weekend and update my summer wardrobe.  Not because I have nothing to wear.  No, I wish that was the case.  I had to go shopping because nothing freakin fits me!

Apparently, this past winter I was storing fat like a bear.

I am so depressed.

I swear I have the Delta Burke collection in my closet.  The sizes go from 4 to 10.  Right now I am in the middle.  I have gained only eight pounds since last summer but still…that is at least a size, if not two.  Ugh!

The kicker is I have been working out all summer and doing the Weight Watcher’s point thing (my favorite diet that I’ve been on 700 times and always works).   But it seems to be taking longer to lose these days.  Why?  Because I am getting…gulp…old!   That dreaded excuse that I used to hear my elderly counterparts say is now becoming my own reality.  I’m getting older so “my metabolism is slowing down.”   How can that be?  How did I get here already?

Sure, next summer will be 20 years since I graduated from high school but it still feels like yesterday.  I am back in touch with old friends (thank you Facebook) and I still feel young.   So how did I go from once counting the days until I turned 21 and could get into bars, to praying that time would stop right now so I don’t have to suffer yet another gray hair and be forced into “mom” jeans because my fat arse can’t squeeze into anything else?

Did I mention how depressed I am?

“You’re as young as you feel” they say.  Who in the hell are they anyway?  Well whomever they are are full of crap because the mirror doesn’t lie.

Yes, let us discuss the dressing room mirrors.  If I wanted to see every lump and bump on my backside I would use a magnifying glass.  Seriously!  When I go shopping for myself, I wander around the store and take extra care to pick out the clothes that I think will actually look good on me.  I know what my body can wear but more importantly, I know what it cannot.

Daisy Duke shorts…um definitely not.

Skinny jeans… on my pear shaped body?  No way.

Mini skirts…nope.

Bikinis…don’t even go there.

So after what seems like hours of carefully choosing what I want to try on, I finally get to the dressing room to model my selections.  Nine times out of ten I will put it on, look at myself in that oh so depressing mirror, and want to cry.  If I am lucky, I may end up with a t-shirt or two, but hardly ever, will I like any type of bottom.

Then I leave, completely and utterly disgusted with myself.  I feel like all of my hard work exercising and dieting is for naught so I go home and bury my misery in a pint of Ben and Jerry’s.  Ha!  Just kidding.  I would never do that.  Please after seeing every imperfection in that dressing room mirror, that last thing I want to do is eat.  What actually happens is that I get pissed!

I curse my body and my parents for giving me these genes and wish they were both former Olympians.   Then, when I’m done blaming everyone else, I remember what I DO have and try to be grateful for that.

This is only weight and it WILL come off.  Eventually.  I know now that I just have to be more patient and may have to work harder to make it happen but hey, that will make the journey much more gratifying in the end right?  Yeah I know that sounds like a bunch of BS but it helps me get through it so back off!  LOL!

Women age gracefully huh?  Good for you Jamie Lee Curtis.  You go ahead and embrace your gray hair, wrinkles, and mom jeans.  Oh and I am so glad that Activia yogurt keeps you “regular.”   I am NOT aging well and I’m not ashamed to admit it.  In fact, I hate every part of the aging process.  But I WILL defy it for as long as I can.

Time to amp up the workouts and reel in the diet plan.  I WILL get there again.

Until then, the next time I go shopping the only thing I will be buying is a purse or a pair of shoes.  No need to set foot into a dressing room for those!