Sometime last year I was told that people who weigh over 100kgs would definately have some sort of a sleeping disorder. Being that I was tired all the time and tipped the scales at just over that mark, I thought perhaps I should do something about it.
So, I changed my diet. Cut out all the bad things. I really couldn't be bothered with excercise though (other than the 10mins walk to and from work, including walking home for lunch and back afterwards each day). I wasn't out to be an athlete here, just to be healthy.
I monitored my progress over about 2 months, and my weight somehow managed to increase. So I gave up.
I stayed with my parents this weekend and noticed the scales on their bathroom floor. I hadn't checked the weight for at least 6 months, but it never changed, so why would it this time?
It did change. Somewhere, somehow, 12 kilograms disappeared. I checked three times over the weekend. Gone.
There is so much loss in my weight loss tale.
I'm at a loss to explain how those kilograms disappeared.
I discussed this with mum, and I thought chances are I have a terminal illness. Those guys lose weight for no reason all the time. Her theory was that if I had a terminal illness, I would probably be ill. She had a point.
I'm at a loss to explain why the kilograms stayed with me when I was eating healthy.
I don't even have a theory on that one.
I'm at a loss to explain where exactly the kilograms disappeared from
The face and stomach all still look the same. The only thing I'm thinking is it's disappeared from my legs because they do all the hard work holding the rest of me up. *Sigh* If I lose another twelve kilograms I won't be able to make those jokes any more, and that would be society's loss.
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