Six months ago I went to the doctor. I hate going to the doctor. I’d go more often if I didn’t have to be weighed every single time–that’s the worst part of going to the doctor–getting weighed. Can’t the doctor just see for herself that I need to lose weigh and write, “Needs to lose weight,” on her chart? Why make me go through the humiliation? It’s rude, I tell ya . . . down right rude.
This appointment was a little different. This time my doctor addressed my weight issue. She said the words I’ve always dreaded . . . “You need to see a shrink.”
I thought I’d been camouflaging my extra weight quite well. It’s amazing how many body parts a couple of scarves can hide. Crud. I should have thrown on a few more scarves.
I responded to my doctor’s declaration by acting all innocent…
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