Waist Not - Want Not?

Ya, sure...

It would seem that I've been hijacked - or at least my body has. And it isn't the first time either.

When I was pregnant a life force overrode my free will and put me on autopilot. It turned my life topsy-turvy. My love of hot tea vanished and was replaced with a craving for "the bean". Favourites became the dreaded; what was once oily became brittle; tears bypassed the reasonable filter and flowed indiscriminately; and body weight and shaped were reworked to the linking and needs of the alien (to me) form sucking the best of me  nestled inside me. Control was remote - not mine to have. The only way to survive and thrive was to surrender and accept that which I couldn't change.

And now twenty years later, it's happening again. Probably something to do with this peri, post, men-  o-pause thing...  I've been hijacked by middle age! It's hidden my waist, kinked my bone straight hair, added a little frizz for extra texture, borrowed my short-term memory, and replaced the meek with a whole lotta chutzpah. Back to the waist -- I want it back, and I want it back now! I don't eat copious amount of food; pop and fried foods have been dropped from my vocabulary and bran and green food  are my best friends. I deserve to have a waist. I would give all the hair on my chinny, chinny, chin for a glimpse of the waist that was once mine. I hate guessing where my belt should go. By the way, all my belts have shrunk! How is possible that they once wrapped easily around me?

A recent trip to the grocery store inspired me to research the slimming garments -- at the grocery store. They sell everything now. Promises of a slimmer me, ten pounds lighter, muffin topper remover; it was all mine to explore. And this is what it has come to... I walk every lunch hour earnestly waiting for my waist to reappear. I think I spotted it under the muffin topper. Only time will tell!