Big Boned? Nope.

"Is your work making you fat?"  That was the subject line for an e-mail in my inbox this morning.  First - I'm appalled that they just assume that my ass is of grandiose proportions.  Second - how the heck do they know?  It's like Santa has sold his list to telemarketers and next to my name, right beside the big ol' "N" is a frownie face denoting my rotund appearance and - just like that - I'm added to the "Is your work making you fat?" e-mail list.

And I have to say that my work may, in fact, be a contributor to my flabby middle.  Why is it that the fat girl always has to keep the office "candy bowl" full and that any excess will be stored  - in her desk drawer?!  I mean, come on, that's like telling a starving man to "hold this bucket of KFC - but don't you eat it! Don't you lick that chicken leg!"  Um - not gonna happen.  If I get a rumbly in my tummy at 3 PM - I'm sure as heck gonna plunge my dimpled hand into that candy drawer and come out with a tiny, chubby fist of Butterfinger minis!  It'd just be wrong to let it just sit  there!

Luckily for me - it's not even ten yet and the idea of food is making me a tad sick to my stomach - so there's no hope of me eating - ohhh - is that a Crunch bar?...