I'm Getting Fat

Notice the clever title of this post?

In case you're wondering what it's a metaphor for, what it symbolizes, and what the meaning is, I will tell you.

It means:  I'm getting fat.

After a year of unemployed bliss on two wheels in a single-automobile family, I finally got a job (about a year and a half ago, I guess) and it involves sitting down all day long.

So it was pretty gradual, and the way I discovered what was happening was pretty delightful.

For nearly my entire life I've been too skinny to even float in water.  It's true, I'm an official non-swimmer.  How I wish I could go back and drown all those onlookers who cheered me on with their splashing shouts of "just arch your back and you'll float!"

Every time I would try arching my back, I would proceed to sink.

However a few months ago, when I went into a pool to practice my usual treading water accompanied by flailing and spurting, I noticed something different:

I was floating like a cork.

So I tried arching my back, and sure enough, I was floating on my back.  Like a cork.

Then it dawned on me the reason.  I had become a flotation device.

Yesterday I used my lunch hour and afternoon break to stay at my desk and work on something personal.  When I got home, I felt a big difference for not having walked 20 minutes during lunch and 15 minutes in the afternoon.  Heavier, fatter, and jigglier.

So I took steps that night.

After eating an entire Trader Joe's flat of enchiladas, I then finished the other half of Wendy's Trader Joe's lentil soup, soaking it up with some Trader Joe's flattish bread toast, while quaffing a big bottle of Chocolate Brown Ale, also courtesy of Trader Joe's.

The steps were in the wrong direction.

Where's a swimming pool when I desire one?  I would like to go in one right now.

Oh you may be winning for now, Gigantic-ness, but I shall get some mental motivation, and I will beat you!