My Butt Hurts

I get so tired of being thin. I want to go back to the days when there was a comforting level of fat surrounding my bones. Today, nothing overlies my skeleton but skin, and skin was not designed by the universe to be a cushion.

When I work on the computer, I find myself in one of two locations - standing in my kitchen with my trusty machine on the kitchen island or sitting on the floor in the living room with my electronic companion perched on my coffee table. The former situation is butt-friendly. However, the second situation is not. I have hardwood floors. Hardwood is, through no incredible leap of intelligence, hard. It pushes against my butt with as much force as my butt pushes against it. There is no give, no flex or bend, no snuggling into the material - just solid, often cold wood. One might ask - why not a pillow? Masochism or laziness, I guess. I have pillows or blankets that I could use, but I never make the motions to obtain them or position them beneath my aching bottom. I do have a large rug in that room, but the edge of the rug actually falls right across my bottom, compounding the assault. That is one of the reasons I stand so much. My students are amazed that I don't sit down all day. I tell them it is because I can't whack them with a yardstick as easily if I'm sitting. In reality, the aches in my feet are far less than would be the aches in my butt.

The toilet seat, too, is hard. Hard as a rock, it seems some days. Bone, again, against wood. I could invest, I guess, in one of those soft toilet seats, but they are just too tacky for words. I cannot purge the image of the very elderly, white shoe-black sock folks from my mind on that issue. At least its not cold. My bathroom is actually well provided with heat and does not chill down too uncomfortably during winter months.

That's the other problem with being thin. No control of body heat. I have no insulation to regulate or moderate temperature changes. I am a lizard. Cold-blooded and subject to the whim of nature for my daily activity ability. Didn't Lisa Simpson proclaim (after drinking water from one of those water-escorted theme park rides - I AM THE LIZARD QUEEN!)? Hate to disappoint her, but that crown is MINE. When I have a cold beverage, I shiver miserably. When I have a hot beverage, I become uncomfortably hot. During an evening, I am alternately removing and replacing a jacket to try and keep my tempeature balanced. Cold days find me chilled to the point of immobility. To brave the outdoors requires an outfit suitable for an Arctic expedition. I am in wool until the temperatures are in the 60's. I spend very few of my hard-earned dollars on nice shoes, as they are not sufficiently warm for the prolonged cold of Northeast. Like a cactus - I thrive in the hottest of hot weather. That makes me very happy. But, those days are few in this area. Many is the year I've had a fire burning on an August evening. As a Louisiana native, I find that perverse.

Clothes do not flatter either. Right now, I have to shop in the boy's department for trousers. The last pair I bought was a boy's 12 from WalMart. That is ridiculous. I should at least be able to purchase garments designed for my gender. Dresses hang oddly and I cannot even consider wearing a sleeveless top. My arms, shoulders and chest are so alarming that I am even embarrased to look at them. I would not inflict that picture on the unsuspecting public. So, no cute spring or summer tops and definitely no swimsuits. The beach is not on my agenda right now, unless I go clad neck to toe.

So many people long to be thin. For me, it is a burden. I should hover around 120 lbs and that is where I used to find my form clinging. My fingers are crossed each day that the current medical machinations will jump-start my body to head back in that direction. It won't be easy or quick - I have no illusions. But, it is something for which I pray each day. Praying for poundage. Sounds like a book title...