Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 24965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
“Oh, nothing,” Rose says. “Your father is out mowing the lawn and I just thought I’d catch up with my baby girl.”
I grimace. I’m definitely not an infant anymore, but as an only child, I’ll always be my mother’s baby.
“What’s going on, sweetie?” my mom asks. “What’s new?”
“Not a lot, really. Oh! Another batch of Orgo stuff just came in the mail,” I say, doing my best to sound excited.
“That’s great!” my mom cries. “I’m so excited for you! Your Aunt Nancy says she’s had amazing results with it. How much weight have you lost already?”
I panic. I haven’t lost a pound. “Uh,” I say, racking my brain for a number that sounds feasible, “about ten pounds! I’m really excited!” I add for good measure.
“Oh, honey, that’s wonderful,” my mom gushes. Honestly, Rose sounds relieved but a cold pit in my stomach opens, as it always does when discussing my weight with my parents. I wish they could just be happy with me the way I am.
“Ten pounds is great, but I think you could stand to lose about thirty more pounds,” my mom continues, and I roll my eyes to the ceiling. “You’re just like the rest of the Means women, with that spare tire around your belly and the thick thighs. It’s a curse. But don’t worry, sweetie, because I think these supplements will really help. I know that nothing else has in the past.”
“Thirty pounds,” I echo feebly. “Yeah. Sure. Sounds great.”
I fall silent, unwilling or unable to keep up with this conversation. After an awkward pause, my mom says, “So are you excited for your next semester to start tomorrow?”
I guess, I want to say, but instead I enthuse, “Yeah! I can’t wait to get back into classes. I have an Intro to Astronomy class that sounds pretty cool.”
“That will be fun, honey,” my mom says absently. Her tone becomes far more excited when she asks, “Do you think you’ll meet any cute guys?”
I close my eyes, trying to keep my cool.
“Boy, I hope so,” I manage through gritted teeth. Truthfully, I don’t care at all about meeting someone in college. It would be nice to have a boyfriend, but I’d rather just spend time with my friends and do well in my studies. My parents, however, are adamant that I’ll meet my husband here. They think the sole purpose of a woman going to college is to get her “Mrs.” degree. God. How outdated. But Rose continues in an excited voice.
“We certainly hope so too, honey. You know that I met your father when I was your age. It’s your time to find your soulmate. You don’t want to get any older and be alone!”
I can’t bring myself to say anything, so I make a noise that sounds agreeable.
“Oh, your dad just came inside,” my mom says, seemingly unbothered by my lack of response. “Do you want to talk to him?”
I’d much rather this conversation be over. “Actually, I have to go,” I sigh, trying to sound remorseful. “Just tell him I love him and say hi, okay?”
“Okay, honey,” my mom says. “We love you! Thirty more pounds, remember!”
“Yeah,” I say. “For sure.”
I hang up and flop back onto my bed, not caring about my wet clothes. I feel like a tub of lard after that conversation. I must be a real whale for my parents to be so focused on my weight loss. What the hell?
But maybe they’re right and I do need to lose weight in order to meet someone. I’ve only had one serious boyfriend and a handful of hookups that always fizzled out. Maybe someone would really like me if I were thin…
I shake my head. No way. I can’t allow my parents’ poisonous thinking to infect my brain. I’ll keep trying these weight loss supplements, but if I don’t lose any poundage, I’ll still love myself and my body. I’m sure I’ll find a husband someday who loves me regardless of the number on the scale, too.
I feel a little better from this internal pep talk, but I’m still damp from the rain and generally sullen. Dragging my feet, I get up and wrap my wet hair in a towel, mentally preparing myself for the frizz that will result. Then I change out of my wet clothes and into a fluffy pink robe, which puts me in a better mood at least.
Sitting back on my bed, I drag my laptop onto my lap, determined to find something to cheer me up after such an awful conversation with my mom. Maybe I can change into dry clothes and go to the movies, or to the library, or maybe even treat myself to a nice, non-chalk-tasting dinner.
As I open my browser, I suddenly remember that Orgo Weight Loss encourages its participants to go to the sauna regularly to “detoxify.” I don’t know exactly what that means, but sitting in a warm sauna does sound nice after getting drenched with cold rain. I type “sauna” into the browser and am surprised to find one less than a mile away: the Seventh Street Russian and Turkish Baths. I click around the website, marveling at the pictures. It looks beautiful and clean, and even has a nice, white-tablecloth restaurant on the ground floor. Even better, when I scroll to the bottom of the page, I see a coupon for 15% off a new customer’s first visit. Score!