Two years ago, I had it all. An amazing job, a great boyfriend and a stable, wonderful family. Then my cousin died, my job went away, my boyfriend and I broke up and my Mom had a break down. This is my true story of how I went from having it all to having nothing at all. And this is my journey out - ONE FUN ADVENTURE at a time until I find my way back to me. 'Cause, after spending over 100 days in bed, I've realized, I don't want to live that way anymore.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Why Bloomingdales Must Immediately Install Treadmills In Their Dressing Rooms
If you are having trouble starting your diet, going to the gym or putting the figgy pudding down, HERE'S MY ADVICE TO YOU: Get thee to the nearest mall and try on, oh, say, a festive holiday blouse, sweater, shrug, top or cardigan. It can be silk, cotton, acrylic (though I hope it's not), wool, spandex or rayon.
In preparation for the biggest holiday of the year, MY BIRTHDAY, (this Saturday, mark your "Hello Kitty" calendars) I went to the mall to buy a new top. WHAT I FOUND OUT ONCE in my most VUNERABLE STATE OF UNDRESS in the dressing room is almost too HORRIFYING TO ADMIT.
NOTHING FIT. (Not even the Spandex). Not even with sucking in, hardly breathing or imagining certain parts of the body BEING TAPED DOWN WITH DUCT TAPE. NOTHING.
That's when I came up with this BRILLIANT IDEA. (I needed to have brilliant idea or I was going to have a screaming, crying, why did I eat a crossiant nearly everyday for two years hissy fit.) My idea is, Bloomindales or (Insert name of Favorite Department Store here) needs to IMMEDIATELY INSTALL TREADMILLS IN THE DRESSING ROOMS.
I swear, I would have paid $25 bucks to work out right then and there. MAYBE MORE! The stores would make a killing. The treadmills could be coin operated like washers and dryers! And after a workout, I would spend, spend, spend, knowing my 30 minutes on a fifty dollar rent-a-treadmill had given me hope that maybe some of my purchases might fit in 3 - 5 weeks. (Results may vary)
Perhaps, too, like a ride at DisneyLand, they could also take a photo of me ON THE TREADMILL, in the dressing room, wearing the shirt I picked out BUT DOESN'T FIT but I have still insisted on cramming over my head and shoulders and I am probably going to have to be cut out of it in order to give it back. MAYBE IF I SAW MYSELF like that, my stomach peeking out of too tight jeans with a top that looks like a half-shirt because I can't get it over my round-y stomach, I would keep running and running and running and fit into this top in 3- 5 weeks (Results are not typical.)
Okay, I gotta get cooking on this idea. Treadmills! Coming to a mall near you!
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