Queen of Denial

In my family, we don't have uncomfortable conversations. Instead, we ignore the elephant in the room, pretend bad stuff isn't happening, and hope whatever makes us nervous simply goes away.

We're also obsessed with food. My grandmother, for example, talks about nothing except what she's eaten, what she's going to eat, or what she wants to eat.

So I suppose it should be no surprise that I've been avoiding the scale lately. Yes, I knew my clothes were tighter than they used to be. That muffin top at the KISS concert was no fluke. Even Brady asked me last weekend why I always wear my clothes too tight. Out of the mouths of babes, I guess.

But today the scale couldn't be avoided when I went to the doctor. I've been fighting a sinus infection for weeks, but I've been on antibiotics for a couple of weeks, so I assumed it would go away. It did not. This morning I woke up under the weather and went to the doctor to make sure it was not strep.

My blood pressure is fine. I had no fever. I did have, however, eight more pounds than I used to have.

The doctor's office called to ask if I could show up 30 minutes earlier, which I did, then they made me wait for 45 minutes. Granted, it's flu season and I'm sure they're busy, but I fumed the whole time. Turns out it was not strep, but rather a persistently annoying sinus infection that 10 days of antibiotics didn't cure. So now I have more.

Other than whining and feeling the need to make my mom's famous lime sherbet freezes when I have a sore throat, being sick somehow makes me feel like I have permission to eat junk I wouldn't normally eat. So I went to Walmart and bought a cart full of oreos, potato chips, and iced sugar cookies.

Hence the trip to the gym tonight for the treadmill and elliptical machine. I will NOT get fat again. Seriously. If I have to go to the gym three times a day in order to keep from going back up a size, that's what I'll do.

Kate Moss recently said that noting tastes as good as being skinny feels. I don't know about that, but I do agree with my pal Sorne, who says that she loves to eat more than she hates working out. So bring on the Christmas food, and schedule my cardio.