When I was pregnant a life force overrode my free will and put me on autopilot. It turned my life topsy-turvy. My love of hot tea vanished and was replaced with a craving for "the bean". Favourites became the dreaded; what was once oily became brittle; tears bypassed the reasonable filter and flowed indiscriminately; and body weight and shaped were reworked to the linking and needs of the alien (to me) form
And now twenty years later, it's happening again. Probably something to do with this peri, post, men- o-pause thing... I've been hijacked by middle age! It's hidden my waist, kinked my bone straight hair, added a little frizz for extra texture, borrowed my short-term memory, and replaced the meek with a whole lotta chutzpah. Back to the waist -- I want it back, and I want it back now! I don't eat copious amount of food; pop and fried foods have been dropped from my vocabulary and bran and green food are my best friends. I deserve to have a waist. I would give all the hair on my chinny, chinny, chin for a glimpse of the waist that was once mine. I hate guessing where my belt should go. By the way, all my belts have shrunk! How is possible that they once wrapped easily around me?
A recent trip to the grocery store inspired me to research the slimming garments -- at the grocery store. They sell everything now. Promises of a slimmer me, ten pounds lighter, muffin topper remover; it was all mine to explore. And this is what it has come to... I walk every lunch hour earnestly waiting for my waist to reappear. I think I spotted it under the muffin topper. Only time will tell!