look what i found!
Look what I found! Haha. I wrote this and forgot to post it. but I’m doing that now because I’m currently facing the problem of writing a good piece of crap. (as if I ever do anyways, haha)
Chubster
That’s actually a nickname Abu gave to a “dear” friend of his, whom we have all gotten used to calling the same. Thing is, it’s becoming more evident now that the name suits me just as well.
What I’m going to write about is probably already written somewhere in this somewhere in this blog, or you’ve probably heard me whine about it. If you happened to be my classmate or housemate, you’ve probably already witnessed my demonstration involving the juggling, dancing love handles, which is kind of giving me the creeps.
Thing is, I know I’m not big. Get it? I know that I fit into the smaller sizes, which makes me un-big at all. Correct? The thing is, all this rest, lots of free food and also alot of love is making me a tad bit chubbier than I normally am. And normally, I just dismiss the thought because the more I think about it, the chubbier I become and the more stressed out I am. So, normally, I just let the paranoia pass because I know I look alright.
Okay, this past semester has really been a stressful one and I think that’s pretty apparent from the all the anger and whining and babbling I’ve managed to put into writing, which I have successfully posted here. Anger makes me hungry, making me eat more, but since anger is so energy consuming, it makes me slim without me having to work too hard on it. I don’t have to think about what I put in my mouth because it all burns out eventually and I’ve nothing to worry about, really.
But right now, I really am having the time of my life, even if everyday were full with nothingness. I am happy despite the fact that my hair keeps falling every time I sweep the floor, causing me to have to sweep it again. I am happy although Abdul is leaving for Penang. I am happy although I stay in all day and no one calls me to ask me out for a drink. All in all, I’m grateful and I’ve just been really happy. The thing about endorphins is that... well, it just shows. And for me, especially, it’s been showing on my cheeks, on my arms, on my hips.
And every freaking body is noticing it. Like for once, everyone is telling me that I’ve GAINED WEIGHT.! Yikes. My sister keeps on reiterating the fact that I’m chubbier since I got home. Jaja says the same. Abdul claims that I look just fine, but that’s only probably because I asked him the question all men dread: “am I fat?”. And he’s probably just being kind because he loves me too much to even notice. Even my mom says that I’m on my way to becoming her. I’m a size 36 and she’s a 42. I’m her size now? Yikes again. And my brother is also one of the kinder ones who said that I look cuter when I’m chubby. Like damn. Ugly but adorable? Yikes, yikes and yikes again.
Should I just remain a scarecrow then? Should I stop eating altogether then because all this response is upsetting me. They probably all mean well and they’re probably telling me that I’m piling on the kilos and that I should stop munching chocolates (which btw, has NEVER given me problems before where weight is concerned!). And I should probably stop eating rice? (Which is highly impossible because I truly am Malay, and we must have rice! If tak, lapar la saya ni... kan Nadira?)
Or probably I look better with these chubby cheeks.
Probably the name Chubster suits me well after all...
Chubster
That’s actually a nickname Abu gave to a “dear” friend of his, whom we have all gotten used to calling the same. Thing is, it’s becoming more evident now that the name suits me just as well.
What I’m going to write about is probably already written somewhere in this somewhere in this blog, or you’ve probably heard me whine about it. If you happened to be my classmate or housemate, you’ve probably already witnessed my demonstration involving the juggling, dancing love handles, which is kind of giving me the creeps.
Thing is, I know I’m not big. Get it? I know that I fit into the smaller sizes, which makes me un-big at all. Correct? The thing is, all this rest, lots of free food and also alot of love is making me a tad bit chubbier than I normally am. And normally, I just dismiss the thought because the more I think about it, the chubbier I become and the more stressed out I am. So, normally, I just let the paranoia pass because I know I look alright.
Okay, this past semester has really been a stressful one and I think that’s pretty apparent from the all the anger and whining and babbling I’ve managed to put into writing, which I have successfully posted here. Anger makes me hungry, making me eat more, but since anger is so energy consuming, it makes me slim without me having to work too hard on it. I don’t have to think about what I put in my mouth because it all burns out eventually and I’ve nothing to worry about, really.
But right now, I really am having the time of my life, even if everyday were full with nothingness. I am happy despite the fact that my hair keeps falling every time I sweep the floor, causing me to have to sweep it again. I am happy although Abdul is leaving for Penang. I am happy although I stay in all day and no one calls me to ask me out for a drink. All in all, I’m grateful and I’ve just been really happy. The thing about endorphins is that... well, it just shows. And for me, especially, it’s been showing on my cheeks, on my arms, on my hips.
And every freaking body is noticing it. Like for once, everyone is telling me that I’ve GAINED WEIGHT.! Yikes. My sister keeps on reiterating the fact that I’m chubbier since I got home. Jaja says the same. Abdul claims that I look just fine, but that’s only probably because I asked him the question all men dread: “am I fat?”. And he’s probably just being kind because he loves me too much to even notice. Even my mom says that I’m on my way to becoming her. I’m a size 36 and she’s a 42. I’m her size now? Yikes again. And my brother is also one of the kinder ones who said that I look cuter when I’m chubby. Like damn. Ugly but adorable? Yikes, yikes and yikes again.
Should I just remain a scarecrow then? Should I stop eating altogether then because all this response is upsetting me. They probably all mean well and they’re probably telling me that I’m piling on the kilos and that I should stop munching chocolates (which btw, has NEVER given me problems before where weight is concerned!). And I should probably stop eating rice? (Which is highly impossible because I truly am Malay, and we must have rice! If tak, lapar la saya ni... kan Nadira?)
Or probably I look better with these chubby cheeks.
Probably the name Chubster suits me well after all...
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