I need to go on a diet cause I'm wearing this soft sweater

I have to go on a diet. I know that. I'm not in denial about it.

It's not so much my weight that's a problem. The number on the scale is fine, thank you very much (lie, lie, lie). It's the tone. You know what I'm talking about. The tone is bad. In particular I have a trouble spot on my belly.

Let me rephrase that. My trouble spot is my belly. I feel it's genetic. My mom's trouble spot has been her belly, and I think my grandma may have had trouble in that region, too. Although Grandma's bum got a little large after retirement, too. But I digress.

You know what extra weight is sometimes? It's a security blanket. I know this because I'm sitting here at my desk, trying to work up the nerve to take some online exams and mindlessly patting my security belly. It's comforting, somehow, to know I have this fat pad between "me" and "the world." I get it now, how people can put on weight to soothe themselves. Or rather, how people tend to put on weight when life gets stressful. As in, every day. Is there ever a day when life isn't stressful?

I think the thing about my husband's recent comment that bothers me the most...you know what I'm going to say here....is that he's right. I hate that! I don't care that he said it, I'm used to all sorts of asinine things coming out of the orifice in his face. I'm just bothered by the fact that while I mindlessly ate Starburst and M&Ms like they were going to be recalled by the FDA, someone actually noticed my burgeoning waistband. My excess did not go unnoticed.

So now I have to think up some grand scheme to get back in shape, and then I actually have to do it, which is even worse! And I have to somehow not make my husband think I'm doing it for him, because that would totally ruin it.

I would take suggestions from the audience, but I'm sure they would involve diet and exercise. And who wants to do that?!

Oh and by the by, I don't think my nose is broken. So there's that on the plus size...I mean plus side.