Day 4.2

I'm starving and I have tons to do, but this thought simply cannot wait.  I need to put on my bitchin' shoes for a sec.

I just got back from grocery shopping at Walmart.  If I offend anyone for what I am about to say, please forgive me.  I saw some big ladies on the "little rascals" doing their shopping today.  You know who she is.  She's in every town on the map.  We used to see her on a rare occasion, but nowadays, we usually see her every trip to the grocery store, and she's got clones.  It makes me mad.  At least I have the grace to blush when my fat gut spills over my pants.  This woman parades around the middle of the isle like she's proud of the fact that Walmart supports her bariatric situation.  Like anyone expects her to get up and walk???  Of course not, her knees hurt and she would get winded walking all the way to the back to the frozen section.  Get me a rascal, Howard.  She has not made the connection that the rascal is enabling her even further.

Bless her heart.  I've never been in her shoes, so I don't know where she's coming from.  But, come on!  Your behind is spilling over both sides of the bariatric sized seat.  Your basket is loaded with cookie dough, chips, diet soda and a box of "Slimquick" pills.  Give me a break.  Lord, please forgive me for being angry.  I wish that I did not feel so judgmental, but I admit, I feel sad and mad for the "Rascal Lady."

I always wondered why these ladies don't have real meals in their baskets.  It dawned on me on the way home - they don't prepare meals, they let McD's and Sonic fry up their b'fast, lunch and dinner.  Snack foods are what they need from the store.  Don't get me wrong, I love Sonic!  But not all the time! 

We all know someone who hits McD's for b'fast to get a mcmuffin and a diet soda.  Maybe we are that person.  But if make the connection, we can prevent ourselves from being the "Rascal Lady."  She's always in pain, she can't walk but rather waddles, her feet and ankles look terribly swollen and red and she's always sick with something or other.  Ma'am, please, don't do this to yourself!  Walk your way through the store and you'll get in your exercise for the day, maybe even the week!  Throw away the diet pills and junk food!  The pills won't work.  It's myself that has to do the work.

Friends, please, if you see that I'm becoming the "Rascal Lady," help me.  Be a good friend and tell me the truth.  I'm not perfect and I'll never be perfect, but that's not who I want to be.  I'll just bet she aches to be Xena, too, she just never learned how and never asked for help. 

Well, this just opened up the floodgates to future blogs...