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I hate my stomach
I hate my stomach. Most people hate their stomachs. Look it up on Google.
Mine protrudes and is soft like an underinflated beach ball or, if you like, a misadventure into a dense, tangled forest. It is the definition of what health exercise scientists say a stomach should not be. They get published articles about this. Read about it if you want to get bored and feel bad about your stomach.
My stomach bulges. When I look down while standing up, I can't see my toes because my belly is in the way. When I touch it, it feels like a bulging pillow that if you pricked with a pin would pop and ooze candy much like an off-white, undecorated piƱata. My stomach feels as if it would be more comfortable to sleep on than a thin and beaten up one. Anybody would sleep soundly for eight hours resting their head on my belly.
I wish I had a muscular stomach. We can wish for many things in life but many we will never attain. Take being a billionaire. Many of us would like to be billionaire, but almost none of us will be, which is depressing.
About six months ago I was able to get my stomach to shrink a little bit. But even though I lost lots of weight, the stomach remained plump. My legs and thighs shrunk more noticeably.
"It's all those years of eating fast food that got your stomach so big," said my nutritionist, who has since fired me as a client because, well, I'm not sure why. My gut tells me in our meetings I got too argumentative, psychological and off topic, and he tired of that. "It will take a long time to undo all the building up of your stomach."
This was not inspiring.
Shrinking my belly would require patience and time. I'm running out of both of those. We all are. Don't you watch the evening cable TV talk shows? There you can hear all about this.
The thing about a stomach is when it's thin, on a woman, it's eye-candy especially on a beach in a bathing suit. Thin stomachs, especially tan ones, are jewels, almost as delicious as boardwalk caramel corn.
This summer my plan is to shrink my stomach, make it look like I'm a body builder. My plan will fall apart this afternoon when I take a nap after going to McDonalds for a Big Mac and chocolate shake.
My stomach will get bigger. My life will get shorter. My psyche will be damaged. My ego will take a hit.
And I will never see my toes again.
That stinks.
- Charles Hartley
Charles Hartley is a freelance writer who has had more than 1,000 articles published in a wide range of media outlets focused on humor, sports, business, technology and consumers. He has earned master's degrees in journalism and business administration and a bachelor's degree in English and communications.