I missed Road Runner it seems, Tom & Jerry instead.
I spent what must’ve been two months in this waiting room, with their doctors, ’til the receptionists knew my name. I cancelled my follow-ups. Now I am back. Am I fatter? I feel fatter. The scale says no, but now the scale is in storage, under literal lock and key. By GP told me I was looking thin, and now I have been given something to live up to. Will I be looking well today, looking healthy? Now I am hoping that I will not. The gym membership has been cancelled, but I have a month left – I am wanting nothing more than to walk to my storage facility, to set that scale up on the hard concrete floor, and to pack my leggings and sports bras into my handbag. As ever, logic has no place here: I have not been eating much, and no binges either, but I am a balloon. Swollen, and jeans out the dryer feel tighter than ever.
And, again, as ever, I am bored of this.