My body is talking

And it's saying "oh sweet lord, you're a hot mess"

Man, I’ve never felt more 42 in my entire life. Last week my doctor called me with my blood test results and confirmed that hey, not only do I have gout but I’m also pre-diabetic!

(If I don’t have it yet, am I still allowed to use the .gif? I hope so.)

Honestly, I was pre-diabetic the year before but pushed it to the back of my mind. (Repressing things is a Hsiung family trait. If we had a family coat of arms, it would include that “This is fine” dog with the room on fire.)

Now that I’ve triaged some of the drama the past couple of years, my body has, in no subtle way, told me to get my fucking act together.

So basically, it’s time for me to lose weight again. My weight has yo-yo’ ed plus or minus 30 pounds for the last ten years. Not to say my health was anywhere close to spectacular in my twenties or thirties, but losing weight this time around feels more difficult than usual. Maybe it’s the anti-depressants, where they say weight gain is a side effect. Perhaps it’s just my metabolism…