Picture 2
Michela Walters’s Picture Choice: Both
Title: Hibernation Season
“You’re not really going to eat that, are you?” Janice asked, not withholding the disapproval from her voice.
Glancing up from my plate, I simply nodded, my mouth stuffed full with the truffle oil fries Bellucci's Bistro was known for. Once i’d managed to swallow the fried goodness, of which I had no doubt would soon be residing on my thighs, I replied. “I have zero plans for a bikini for at least five months, this is my reward for my spring and summer of hard work. I haven’t eaten a single french fry, slice of white bread or chocolate cake since March.”
She started to admonish my nutritional choices, but I wagged a perfectly golden and crispy fry in her face and continued. “My holiday party was last night and I have big plans to sit my ass on the sofa in my comfiest yoga pants and do absolutely nothing but catch up on my Netflix queue for the next three weeks.”
I liked my co worker Janice just fine, but she was one of those people who would always be a size zero because she counted every single calorie that hit her lips. Life was too short for that crap and while I did like to remain fit, I allowed myself what I termed ‘hibernation season’. It was the expanse of time from Thanksgiving through the end of January where I allowed myself to eat to my hearts content. I still managed a workout here and there, but I wasn’t as strict about my routine. It was nice to relax, have a glass of red wine and not worry about how many minutes I’d have to spend on the elliptical machine to make up for it.
“What does Dan think about this” Janice’s raised eyebrow was more than enough to show me what she thought of my dieting respite.
Shoving another fry in my mouth I answered, “Doesn’t really matter what he thinks. He’s my boyfriend, not my dictator. Besides, he actually likes when I put on my Christmas weight. Luckily enough for me, it hits my boobs and ass first.” I knew I was being petty and a bit snide with my comments, but I didn’t really give a shit what Janice thought of my annual tradition.
Janice’s mouth gaped open, as if this was the most preposterous thing she’d ever heard. In reality, I knew she’d been longing for a boob job since her slight frame would never naturally give her anything but an A cup.
We continued our lunch in tense silence, but I for one knew life was too short to only eat salad, tofu and quinoa. Afterall, just like Virgina Wolf said, “One cannot think well, love well, sleep well if one has not dined well.” With this statement in mind, I allowed myself these two months of gluttony and for those sixty days I am never happier.
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Michela Walters is a wife, mother and book enthusiast. She is currently attempting her hand at writing her first romantic fiction novella. You can read her other stories on her blog: michelawalters.wordpress.com
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Sounds like my kind of tradition. Except, of course, I'm carrying too much weight to start. Alas...
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