Fat.*

Remember how we all thought that I'd forget to eat in college? I was pretty sure that the notorious freshman fifteen was going to pull a reverse move on me. But, as the scale and my stomach can attest, that is definitely not the case. I eat so much. I eat when I'm bored. I eat when I'm sad. I eat when I'm happy. I eat when I'm doing homework. I eat when I'm not doing homework. I eat every time I change my socks, turn my head, or bat my eyelashes. And I don't know how I'm doing it, because I don't even have anything to eat. I spend a strict $17 dollars a week on food, so it's not like I have that much to go around. And I don't ever buy junk food, but somehow I discover myself eating it all the time.

In highschool, I used to skip breakfast and lunch most days, and it wouldn't even faze me. I basically never got hungry. I tried that the other day. Not a good idea. My stomach was growling all through class, and I couldn't focus because I was so hungry. WTF? What have I done to myself? I was supposed to be building up a resistance to hunger for the up-and-coming second coming, when a family of ten will have to make a single can of mushroom stems last for a whole week. But I guess the rule is you can't go without eating AND outrun all the monsters. That would be unfair to everyone else.

But I'll be able to outrun everyone to the grocery store at least.





Except if I get too fat, I'm not going to be able to run at all.