It posted!

So I will try my luck and hope blogger is not the type who digs in main dishes by just ignoring appetisers. Assuming the little sentense I posted before was an appetiser. And am heading for the main course now.

So...what should I serve you today? Fettucini Alfredo? A good portion of work stress? Self Saucing Chocolate Pudding? A big bowl of diet insecurity? Lemon capellini with caviar? An "I-weighed-in-800-grammars-more-than-yesterday" platter? Stuffed tomatoes? Perhaps a "EatGood-WorkoutMore-WeightAintDropping" triffle?Good ole fashioned shrimps in coctail sauce? Gimme your choise! Come one, we are friends here, don't be silent, here is your chance to order!

Are you laughing? You should not. You should pat my head and be sweet and nice and tell me oh Argy, you know hard work pays off, you know next week will be a great result, you took your jeans in ten days ago and you felt them loose yesterday again! You are loosing cm. To see me acting up on you, like I did on Angelos last night. To discover I can be a bastard when I want to be a bastard.

Yes. I am angry. I am tired. I am overworked. I am stressed. I have digged the big black hole in therapy and there is stuff there that has blown me away. And I am hungry most of the time. I am tired of pep talking myself about weightloss. I am too much of an egoist to give up. I am not feeling a nice person today. Nor have I felt nice yesterday.

I left my office at 9 pm and I bloody walked home. I did not understood it till I was almost a couple of km away from home. I got of the building and walked and walked and walked. Frantically. Feet hitting the pavement with a vengeance. Hands free from bags (cos I had a backpack kind of bag) in fists hitting imaginery people in front of me. I walked 10 km in 82 minutes. How do I know? Because my mobile rung and brought me back in reality. It was Angelos, worried, asking me where I was. See he had called me right when I was out of the building, at precisely 9 pm asking me if Im still at work. And when my phone rung it was 10.22. See? I know my subtraction. 10.22 - 9 equals 82 minutes. I can do decimals and all.

What I cannot do is work my arse off and see no results. It exhausts me. It brings me down. It makes me the bitch I sound to be right now.

I am asking myself now if I should stop posting, before I make you all think I am letting my Mr. Hyde out in the open. But its 8.59, and it is too early for me to go to work. So perhaps I should stop and maintain some of my "oh she's such a nice woman" reputation in the blogosphere, and work out my 50 minutes in the treadmill. Oh yes, have I told you? I have upped my time and am walking for 50 minutes a day in the 'mill now. And I ask you. For what? To built my strength? To make my heart beat in a better rhythm? To clean my cardiovascular system? To drop my cholesterol levels? To never suffer the threat of diabetes?

Well, no!

I have to inform you that I am in excellent health. My annual blood tests come always surpisingly bright. Of course I am young and have not yet hit the age where the problems begin to show. But still.

I read the skiny daily post yesterday and it said to prioritise our reasons for weight loss. Health? Vanity? A smaller size of jeans?

It all comes down to vanity for me ladies. Of course I want to get pregnant and loosing more weight will mke things in the process a lot lot easier. Of course now I can climb 3 floors of stairs maintaining the same rhythm in my breath and only in the middle of the fourth floor I can get a bit uncomfortable, but hey! I am still a smoker.These things happen to smokers!

But I want to turn heads. Bottomline is I am not as nice as you are. Who are loosing weight and exercising in order to aquire better health. I want to hear whistles when I walk in the street. I want to see the lust in men's eyes. Not just in my man's eyes.

But this will never happen. Never. Not even if I bit the bullet and live in chicken breast, fish and boiled zucchinis till I reach 59 kilos. Because I will never wear a singlet in pride. Never. Because of all this loosing and gaining and loosing and gaining fricking lots of kilos, my skin has waved goodbye on me. Miles of stretchmarks. Chicken wings for arms. Boobs ten years older than my 36 years of life. Flab. Cellulite. Excess skin.

And then I am also trying to follow the "natural path". I am not considering plastic surgery to remove the skin. It is against the rules for me. Like gastric bypass was against the rules when I was 130 kilos and 2 doctors reccomended it. My isurance agent even had said back then that in my weight the insurance would cover for the cost. No? Shocking! Preposterous!

Angelos touches my skin and moans from pleasure. He tells me how soft and silky and warm it feels and how it turns him on. And I secretely feel he is insane.

Then there are times I see myself naked in the mirror and admire my curves. My so well proportioned body. I feel like a renaissance woman, all fleshy and curvy and sexy.

I really love my body. I am thankfull for it each and every day. It carries me around. It makes me feel. My body is the only proof I am alive. My body is my existance and I am gratefull and thanking God for it each and every day. It gives me shivers. It gives me orgasms. It gives me sensations.

But it will never turn heads in the beach. Besides the ones who will think...man...this woman must have been huge once, look at all this skin!

I am not giving up. I am just tired. And discouraged. But I will finish this post now and hit the treadmill. Because I am also very very willful. And I will get to the 69 kilos. I will!

Now if blogger decides to eat this post, it will only mean you were not meant to read this vent. Of which I am not at all proud. But which came straight from the core of me.

Have a nice day all!