Skinny Girl Problems

Hey buddies. It’s that time again. Here’s the latest helping of ironic complaints about the oh so terrible side effects of my weight loss journey. Skimpin’ aint easy!

-Remember the days when I could randomly get froyo just cause, or when a helping of afternoon soy crisps was not that big of a deal? I don’t, cause now if I so much have a few poorly-timed almonds, I risk spoiling a meal. Snacking has become serious business that requires all sorts of planning. Also, my desk is waaaayyy farther from the cafeteria now, which is good and bad. It takes longer for me to get something to eat, but I’m also usually too lazy to do it.

-I can’t eat as many fries. Bummer. I indulged in some the other night and was full for a solid two days.

-I know in every other edition of Skinny Girl Problems, (like here and here) I talk about my clothes all being too big. For a while it was alright. I could play off the baggy clothes as Olsen twin-idolatry. But now, I’m running out of pants. And shirts. And I still haven’t gotten appropriately-sized funderwear. Can anyone lend me a few dollars? I could repay you by looking mad cute and not being constantly nervous that I’m gonna drop my drawers in public.

-This weekend, I tried to take myself shopping and boy are my arms tired. I’m having a fun in between sizes moment and now have to try on two of everything. Sure it saves the trouble of running back and forth between racks and room, however my biceps are still burning from lugging around two sets of duplicate duds.

-I never thought I’d say this, but everything on the shelves is so big. I think Murphy wrote his law about stores never having the size he wanted. When I was an Extra Large, they only had smalls. Now that I’m a Medium, they only have Extra Large. Booooooo.

Okay, so I know if you made it this far, you must think I’m a total biotch. I swear on my Dave Grohl guitar pick that I’m not. I’m just using the sense of humor I developed as a fat chick as a coping mechanism for all these new changes. It’s pretty heady to finally be confident in my body, and that is proving to be the biggest skinny girl problem of them all.


Skinny Girl Problems

Okay. So. We’ve established I’m losing weight. Glad to have gotten that out of the way. Glad people don’t give me as much of a hard time over the vegan hot dogs I eat for lunch. We cool. Here’s some more skinny girl problems to add to the list.

-Meeting new people poses a challenge because everyone new to my life post-diet has only met this skinnier version of me. They don’t know about my potential to be mistaken for a brunette Mario Batali. They also don’t know about why I’m so ravenous all the time. They haven’t met the fat chick just DYING to come out and finish their lunch. It adds a lot of pressure to keep us this idea that I’m naturally a normal-sized person, but maybe that’s not the worse thing.

-I only take up one seat on the subway now.

-When I eat, my belly gets bigger. Full is not just a feeling anymore, it’s a condition that I can see with my eyes. So I’ll be having a great day where I’ve stayed on track diet-wise and then look down and see a vegan hot dog shaped lump on my tummy. Well, that’s not entirely true, but there’s definitely a noticeable change that does a good job of messing with my head.

-All my undies are too big. Uggggghhhhhhhhhhhhh. Why does the garment that uses the least amount of fabric have to cost so much money?

-I can’t enjoy Shake Shack, Stand, Corner Bistro, Bill’s or any of my other favorite burger places anymore. These kind of meals used to be my favorite, but now it’s a super stressful experience full of checks and balances. Is it worth getting a veggie burger or can I cheat and get the real thing… If I let myself get cheese, then I can’t get fries… Do I only get a milkshake and sacrifice eating any other food… It makes me tired just blogging about it.

As always, I want to remind you that I’m not actually complaining. These are merely my Seinfeld-esque observations on my weight loss journey. Skinny people don’t have it any harder than bigger folk, and I hope you’ll continue to support me as I keep this diet party going. Stay tuned for more skinny girl problems…

Skinny Girl Problems

So I lost some weight recently. 25 pounds. I know. Crazy.

It’s still a work in progress, and I’ve noticed some changes that were to be expected, like being smaller, but there are some that have come as a surprise. I always thought skinny chicks had it easy. They can buy things off the rack and look adorable fist deep in a plate of cake. Those two things might be true, however they also deal with things you would have never thought of. I present to you:

Skinny Girl Problems

– It hurts to lean on things. there’s less padding between your delicate bones and the object they’re resting on and after a little bit it can get really uncomfortable. I leaned on a bar talking to a boy recently and my ribs were sore for FOUR days.  In what terrible universe is it uncomfortable to sit too long? The one where you’re a stupid skinny girl.

– You get full. I still have the appetite of an enlarged gorilla in heat, but can only eat as much as its soon to be born cub.

-You’re cold. Like all the time. It’s really dumb.

-My tolerance has gone WAY down. I’ve gone from cheap date to Bachelorette contestant. The term “one drink wonder” comes to mind, which is something I think I made up to describe a person who gets the spins after the first round.

-My old clothes are all too big. While I’m always looking for an excuse to shop, my bank account isn’t quite as agreeable. I’ve tried to play off the bagginess of my clothes as a tribute to the Olsen twins, but it’s hard to look cool when you’re pants have fallen and they can’t get back up. Unless you’re Paula Deen.

Did you notice my subtle tribute to TGIF in that last one? Anyway, that’s not what this is about. I’ll keep you posted on these serious life or death problems as I lose more weight. And let me just note that there is a crazy ass level of sarcasm involved in this post. I’m so not actually complaining about any of these things or saying that skinny people have it hard. Though I am complaining about not being able to be fist deep in a plate of cake. I miss it desperately.