The good news is despite my sister’s recent hypothyroid diagnosis, what I suspect about my mother’s health and the tendency for thyroid problems to run in families, my tests came back normal. I’m at I think 2.6, which is about as normal as you can get. And, my cholestrol is a hale and hearty 188.
The bad news is I now have no excuse for my sluggishness and slothlike torpor. Clearly, it’s just because I’m a fat, lazy fuck. Fucking shit, now I have no excuse when my personal fitness instructor, the gym-loving M., marches me around town and demands I drop and give him 20.
I love my 10 or extra pounds. I would so hate to see them go.
Shouldn’t this post have been password protected?
Nah, I’m proud of my poundage. It helps to make me intimidating in an Andre the Giant sort of way.