Ok, first things first: Meesee isn’t my real name. Finding a domain name for a blog that hasn’t been gobbled up is hard, which is why Meesee was conceived as an alternate spelling for my real name (I think you can probably figure it out, but I’m not writing this blog for anyone other than me, so I don’t expect “you” to care).
I like writing in my journal at home, but I feel like I can write a whole lot more and get the thoughts out of my head in a more coherent fashion when I type a blog.
I’m a big girl right now and I’ll admit that I hate it. I look at my long, not chubby fingers, my tapered ankles and wrists, and know I’m not predisposed to being obese (overweight, yes, but not obese), but here I am. I am obese. The word doesn’t even sound pleasant. It sounds like a disease…which I guess it kind of is.
I poked around google and found this.
Screen capture was from google, with my comments overlaid in Comic Sans, because I have no soul.
What’s kind of interesting is when obese has been used in history. It tends to peak at the start of wars and economic downturns (1918, 1939, early 1980s, 2001). Maybe it’s because as things start to hit the fan and people are angry about things they can’t control, they start to lash out at people for some reason. And it’s easy to bash people about being fat.
It’s not surprising that I feel worst about myself and fattest when I’m not working hard and being productive. I lost my job and – bam! – there’s ten pounds. Sick child? Another ten. The last decade has been a rollercoaster of stupid stuff happening in my life and I find myself 60 pounds heavier than I’d like to be.
So here I go…attempting to get fit and happy. Not sure how this will go, but this is where I’m documenting things.