I was a skinny kid. Like a stick skinny. In my twenties, I grew a belly. That was okay. Sure, it meant I couldn't wear those tops I bought from that excellent gay clothes shop which had such fantastic stuff designed by the owners themselves, but I didn't mind.
I was never bothered about my weight.
I did notice when I was interviewed about a project a few years ago that I looked very round. It was a bit of a surprise but didn't bother me. Never bothered me. Even when that woman attempted to compliment me by telling me I didn't look quite as fat in real life.
And now, there is this thing between me and my laptop.
And holy crap, I think it's my ol' dad's belly. It bothers me. Now, it bothers me. Why now? I don't know. Maybe it just hit a point where I can actually just see it in front of me. And I don't like it.
That bugs me in so many ways. Bugs me that I have this thing above my waist. Bugs me that I care. Bugs me that I wish I didn't have it. I've never really wished anything about my appearance before. Well, except I didn't want to lose my hair so fast. I know weight is an issue for so many people, both male and female. To me, this is all new.
I don't know what to do with it.
There's something not quite right with that image, is there? It looks like I've, well... it doesn't look good.