My parents' house is simply not designed for fat people.

I do not mean because it's two floors either...

Yes, so I am staying with my Dad right now, after Mom's memorial on Saturday. It's a nice condo in Stuart Florida. It does have one feature I am not crazy about.

There are Too Damned Many Mirrors. Full Length Mirrors for that matter. As a fat guy, I probably try and avoid looking at myself in the mirror as much as possible. My folks' condo is like Plato's Retreat with the mirrors. Jeez.

Granted we all have those days where we think we look pretty good, but then I was getting changed Friday night and chanced at my pale, pasty, doughy form in the mirror and was, quite literally, horrified.

I am currently built like a bowling pin.

Ugh.

My father and I both stepped on the scale last night. I am fully 100 pounds heavier than he is. He's gonna be 80 this year. I should not, under any circumstances be that big, seriously. Like I was saying, this whole thing with my mom has lit a fire under me and I am taking it day by day and trying my hardest to head downwards in the fat-ass department.

My Uncle Tommy remarked that it's simply a discipline. You have to discipline yourself to either do it or not, and I agree.

I took a nice walk around the complex last night, although my choice of listening to the audio book for World War Z in the dark was somewhat poor.