I need to get up.
I need to move.
I need to be more active.
I’ve gotten so bad lately. All I ever do is sit on my ass, & eat.
And eat.
And eat some more.
There’s no two ways about it. I’m getting chubby.
Ok, ok.
Fat.
I’ve passed being more than just chubby. Now I’m just- fat.
And getting fatter.
But I just… I have been having such a terrible time controlling myself. It’s as if I just can’t do it whenever he’s around.
I don't even know what it is.
I just keep eating.
And I get the feeling that he knows exactly what he’s doing, keeping all this food around me, & constantly showering me with treats. Spoiling me. And whatever semblance of a diet I once had. There’s no chance in hell he hasn’t noticed what’s becoming of me. But he doesn’t ever seem to let up. The treats only just keep coming.
And like, I don’t get the impression he’s doing it maliciously. In fact, I think he really likes it.
But yeah.
There is certainly something just a wee bit underhanded about it all. Like he knows I’m powerless. That I never can seem to be able to stop myself. Not these days. It’s like my willpower’s completely shot. I can't control myself.
Ech.
This is why I need to get off my fat ass. Start moving. Exercise. Get some steps in.
Before my ass gets any fatter. Takes up even more of this couch.
Less & less of my things fit right any more. I can't button anything now. And if I end up safety pinning it or something, I can hear the seams of everything I own just crying out. Squeaking & creaking every time I try & move. And while he’ll happily lend me something of his to bang around the apartment in, even his clothes are starting to feel… snug on me now.
I don’t even know why I’ve let it go on as long as I have. I used to be so much more on top of these things. Militant even.
Before? If I noticed even the slightest bit of pudge starting to hide my abs? And my ass would’ve been at the gym so fast! You would have had to rip me away from that rowing machine. Diligently. Determined.
But lately?
I’ve been so much more like… “go with the flow.” Relaxed. Unfazed. And so the weight just kind of started to pile on.
This is why I have to get my ass in gear. Now.
Do something, anything, just to offset all these calories.
To stop this gut from bulging out in front of me any further. For fuck's sake, it's like it's just a little bit bigger, bulgier, every day. Swelling up like a tick. It just makes me look so... porky.
Because I am getting- porky. I'm turning into a pig. Stuffing my fat pig face.
And speaking of hogs, if things keeps up like this?
I’ll be huge in no time. And at a certain point, it'll surely be too late. I'll probably hit some point of no return. And just be fat. Forever. Too big to exercise in a way that makes any real difference. Mostly because it'll just be so much harder to get the momentum going.
And I already feel a compulsion to never leave this couch. To keep eating. To just let it happen.
I need to fight it. Push back agains-
Wait.
What's that smell?
Did he... did he bake brownies?
For me?!
Fuck.
See? This is what I mean. He knows what he's doing.
Okay. Well- I still need to get moving.
Just... after these.
And I definitely will!
Just you watch!
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Just a dumb little warm up vignette I had in my drafts about someone succumbing to gluttony & laziness. I'm sure they'll come around to embrace it eventually. That couch is only going to be more appealing the bigger their ass gets.