I regret to inform you that the Vitamin D did not do as promised and cure my stabbiness. At first, I thought maybe it was working. Suddenly I felt all footloose and fancy free. I had the sudden urge to dance to "Money Money", and to tell everyone around me that its the best song of the 80's, no OF ALL FUCKING TIME.
But then I just realized I was just drunk.
Once I sobered up a bit, the stabbiness came back with a vengeance.
I don't know if it has anything to do with the fact that I missed nearly all the doses and then took all seven at once?
There was literally no directions on the bottle. It said, and I quote "Take as directed."
So I just did what I did with the birth control pill, which was to take all of the missed doses as a mass, catch up dose. Which seemed to work pretty good.
Minus the three kids, of course.
Anyways. The stabbiness came back.
"How on earth do you stay so SLIM, Randine," a coworker asked me. The way she said it, it sounded almost like an accusation of some sort.
Immediately I felt vaguely defensive.
After all, I wouldn't ask someone "How on earth do you stay so CHUBBY?"
Oh but I suppose since I'm not (supposedly) chubby it's OK to ask about my stature in front of a roomful of people? This goes back to my days as an awkward preteen. A traumatic incident. I was all dressed up to go to a wedding. My self esteem was shoddy, even then- especially then, but having said that I was feeling pretty proud of myself with my french twist and black dress. And then one of my old, eccentric aunties approached me, and in front of everyone said with a swirl of her drink:
"OH, LOOK AT YOU, but aren't you just a BEAN POLE!"
Anyways, flash forward twenty years and I am still taking flack for it.
Another coworker jumped in, perhaps sensing my discomfort.
"It's called three kids and a full time job," she said with a laugh.
End of conversation.
She (the other co worker, the offending party) dug her feet in the ground, shook her head. "No. I have a kid and a full time job," she said staunchly.
First of all- your kid is twenty three years old. That's a little different than chasing a two year old.
Or at least, it should be.
Secondly, your job?
Sitting on a chair for eight hours a day.
Being run off my feet for eight hours a day.
"It's your metabolism," she pronounced. "Some people are just lucky."
I felt the stabiness prickling me everywhere.
"No," I said. "I'm actually pretty crazy busy most days. Half the time I don't get a chance to eat."
She still looked skeptical, perhaps because I had a doughnut on my lunch break, which she had seen me consume.
Well, sue me for having one doughnut in the last month.
Okay, maybe two. And actually, it was a long john.
The point is, I eat pretty fricking healthy nine times out of ten. Or at least seven or eight.
So as promised, the stabiness scale revisited:
How stabby do you feel on a scale of one to ten: nine
Pink or purple: pink
Favorite pizza topping: cheese
What are you wearing right now: khaki pants and a tank top (an improvement you say: not really. I'm only not in my pyjamas because I'm behind in the laundry. What am I going to wear to bed tonight you ask? Geoffs Corona tank top that he got free from a rep at work. I know. Awesome.)
First word that comes to mind when you hear the word knife: carve
Was Lassie good or evil: Evil.
I think its an improvement.
Basically, the only question that counts is the first one.
The rest are just for fun.