Ozzie Dies

I've decided on a mercy killing for Ozzie, the festering menace that has replaced my abdominal muscles. I'm going to take him out back and splatter his guts all over the pavement. Graphic, I know, but entirely necessary. Here's to New Year's resolutions in April. I'm committed (at least in my mind) to drinking less, making better decisions regarding food intake, and devoting more time to outdoor activity. I never fully grasped the significance of January 1st as the day that one would make life changes. Why not April 23rd? The date is just as arbitrary. I'm not really a work-out maniac, but I'm obsessed with the notion of making changes in my lifestyle and seeing the results, even if only temporary. I'm not stout or even portly and I do not stare at my furry body in the mirror and imagine a reflection that would make a young Arnold Schwarzenegger weep. While I do have an obsessive personality, body and image is a topic that I willfully ignore. My primary concern is the result, and beyond that, knowing that I'm capable of making a change. I find that notion particularly empowering and motivating.

Layer Up

I woke unnecessarily early this morning for work, you know, even before my alarm (probably in anticipation of a snow day-wishful thinking). I went through my normal routine, turned on Channel 4 news and threw my down comforter back over my head until I heard the weather report three more times.

Finally 6:30AM arrived and I forced myself to get up, then do push-ups to ensure that returning to my nest wasn't a feasible alternative. I went through my normal routine in the bathroom, put the shower on, arranged my shaving mug, my badger hair brush, my trusty double edged safety razor, and shaving cream. I hopped into the shower and startled myself, usually either the water is scalding or glacial , but never perfect. Today it was unnecessarily hot.

After five minutes of applying shampoo, and facial scrubs, I began to soap myself. I achieved a foamy lather with my bar of soap rotating the soap clockwise (in my left hand) on my belly, when suddenly I was introduced to a new friend, someone I'd never cared to notice before. The place where my abdominal and oblique muscles used to be prominently featured has been replaced by a pouch. I must say, I've grown quite affectionate and fond of the little guy. I think I will name him Ozzie. I know all he really wants is more pub food and some suds to help him grow, and right now I don't have the will to deprive him.

Besides, now my trousers fit much more snug and now my belt no longer serves a utilitarian purpose, but sits as belts are supposed to - around my waste as a decorative accessory. I don't know if you judgmental bastards noticed but it's below freezing and tomorrow is going to be colder. You wish you had an Ozzie of your own.