The Diaries of a Fat Chick

I’ve become rather peevish over the last month or so.  I’m not entirely sure why but there you have it.  I am peevish.

On the outside I am still the happy and funny and possibly slightly insane Kelly that everyone knows and loves/tolerates (for the most part anyway - poor Ben would probably disagree as he has been receiving the brunt of my peevishness) but on the inside I am knotted full of anger and anxiety and irritation and general angst.

I have my theories on the reasons behind the sudden peevishness - dissatisfaction with my job, unhappiness about my current weight (although I did lose 2.6lbs last week at WW - yay me), financial concerns, too busy all the time and feelings of being trapped in a house that’s messy and cluttered and too full of stuff. 

In the last couple of months I’ve had a reoccuring daydream where I sell everything we own, grab Ben and hightail it to Paris where we will pay too much rent for a tiny apartment in the heart of Paris and if you stand on your tiptoes on our tiny balcony and crane your neck you will be able to catch a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower.  We will drink coffee and eat baguettes every day and learn French so that our neighbours stop giggling at our silly Canadian speaking.  Ben will shine shoes, I will work at a small cafe, and we’ll make just enough money to cover our rent and buy us baguettes and we won’t own a phone, a tv or a computer and will communicate with loved ones by postcard.

Sounds completely unrealistic and disgustingly romantic doesn’t it?   Which, and trust me on this, is utterly unlike me.  I am more buried in realism than anyone I know, I have our financial budget spreadsheeted out for the next three years for fuck’s sake. 

Truthfully the romance part worries me the most.  I am not romantic.  My idea of romance is coming home to a house that I didn’t have to clean.  And seriously ladies, am I wrong in that?  Imagine coming home to a house that has a dog hair free carpet you didn’t have to vaccum or a clean bathroom that wasn’t scrubbed by you. 

A word of advice for the men - you wanna get lucky?  Forget the fucking flowers and the going out for dinner and scrub the toilet and tub for your lady.  Trust me - you’ll get laid.  Possibly twice.

While I am sure there are more serious underlying issues to my sudden peevishness the one I have focused on is the “too full” house (watching Hoarders every Monday night only fuels the “my house is too cluttered” fire) and I am quite certain that if I could only get rid of 75% of the stuff currently occupying my house my peevishness will disappear.  Hence the great decluttering of 2010 has begun. 

In conclusion, I am nearly 35 years old, I am suddenly peevish and I am on a mission to completely rid my house of clutter in the hopes this will ease my peevishness.  Good bye books that I’ve held on to for years and years and will never read again, good bye yarn that I will never knit with, good bye knick knacks that I never dust, good bye shoes and clothes that I will never ever wear again, good bye dvd’s I will never watch, good bye games I will never play and good bye Ben’s extensive record collection that he never listens to (what ?  You didn’t think I was the only one who was going to fall under the axe of declutter did you?).

What does all of this have to do with “Soy delicious” you ask?  Nothing really.  I started this post and wrote the title with the intention of writing something completely different then what came out.  But in the interest of tying it all together:

I have come to the conclusion that I am lactose intolerant.  In regards to both weight loss and financial matters I have cut out the “extra’s” such as Starbucks and Tim Horton’s for the last week or so.  The last few days the debilitating stomach issues that plague me daily have been better.  Yesterday, we treated ourselves at work and did a Timmie’s run where I purchased a large hot chocolate.  I drank half of it and almost immediately regretted it (spending the next few hours with terrible stomach pain and running to the bathroom every 20 minutes or so can often cause regret in a person).  I had a moment of sudden clarity and realized that the milk in the Timmie’s hot chocolate and the milk in the Starbucks mocha (which is about the only way I drink milk) was contributing to the stomach issues.  I googled lactose intolerance and immediately self-diagnosed myself as lactose intolerant.

Again, not that big of a deal.  Milk equals bad for the most part in my books anyway.  But I can’t go the rest of my life without a Starbucks mocha.  I can’t and you can’t make me dammit.  So I will be experimenting with soy milk… any thoughts on that?  Anyone drink soy instead of regular milk?  If so…what do you think of it?