"Sometimes the best helping hand you can get is a good firm push."
Dieting takes place every day within an office. Trust me, I work in one. But don’t tell anybody you’re on a diet. My word, you have never met so many bloody experts on diets as the ones within offices. They watch your every move from how long you've been sitting at your desk and not exercising to how many cups of tea you have drunk and the amount of biscuits dunked into the cup. By the time lunchtime comes, you have broken every rule you’ve made for yourself and someone has been out and got cream cakes for the afternoon because of the stress of the morning or because they don't want you to succeed where they have failed. Believe me, they are people actually jealous of ME. Hard to believe, but if you're a strong person and look like being successful, believe me there are people out there ready to destroy you. There is also nothing worse than going out to get a sandwich to find one of your work colleagues standing behind you going “tut tut”. Ooh that really annoys me!!!! It doesn't matter what type of diet you're on, you're not suppose to be eating anything but lettuce and cucumber. No wonder I eat in private and away from the prying eyes. I get asked what am I having for lunch every day. This question gets asked by all, as often as people standing at the bus stop talking about the weather.
I
get asked things like "do you fancy a burger" or "one of those
roast pork sarnies with everything on it". I want to say, a chicken
salad baguette with no mayonnaise, but a little fat free dressing. What I
actually say is "Are you going to KFC or better still, if you're going by
MacDonalds, get us a large strawberry milkshake and a Big Mac Meal."
I feel guilty before it arrives and contemplate ringing my mate on the mobile to
change my mind, but get distracted. When it arrives I decide to enjoy
every morsel, especially the strawberry milkshake and all that guilt goes away
until I've finished. Now, as I've already been bad for that afternoon, as
far as I am concerned the whole day has been ruined and I start all over again
the next day.
Some people think that because they work with you, they know you and
know what's best for you and believe me they certainly do not. I am
totally different when I am away from the workplace. They're very good at
giving you so called 'counselling' and feel that the skills they use in work can
be used on you. I let them think that they're helping me - hate to knock
down that pedestal of theirs. I know that some of them mean well but there
are those I personally find patronising,
demoralising and I definitely want to smack them in the gob!!
When I've been tired
and stressed, it’s put down as a condition of being
overweight. I think its down to the extra
hours I put in at work and the amount of work I have to do. But then, who
am I to come up with a solution like that. If I cannot manage the job, it’s
must be because I'm overweight. I find
that if
I don’t rush around the building like a blue arse fly and huffing, puffing and
hyperventilating, it’s because you’re overweight.
If you want to blame anything on anybody – blame the person whose
overweight. As soon as you
reach a stage in your life where you don't 'fit in with the norm' you stop
having feelings, brains, skills and abilities.
You beco
me a non-entity.
Being overweight, according to “experts” makes you incapable to
working to your full capacity.
Funny really, I’ve been overweight for all of my working life
and I have proven that I can do any job put before me and with more efficiency
than my predecessors or some of those I work with.
In a time of cutbacks, office space is becoming smaller and that
means that being overweight is going to cause its problems, as I found out quite
recently. I have found myself,
catching my thighs or my abdomen on the desks or filing cabinets as I walk
through an “open” planned office (or not so opened), as more desks, chairs
and people are being crammed into an already small office.
Interviews. Watch
those faces as you enter the arena. I
actually had the chance to witness first hand the jaw dropping response as I
entered the room to sit in that dreaded chair (you know, the one with arms!!!!).
I have to say that eye contact was lost at that point by the interviewer.
Were they feeling pity, embarrassment etc. , I will never know but I can
guess. As I squeezed myself into the seat, it was quite clear that they found
the experience more painful than I did. I,
of course, turn the experience around to a positive one, as I was so nervous, I
needed something to focus on. Well,
some people bite their lip (I chose to bite the hip. Helped by the arms on
the chair).
The panels face grimaced as they asked if I was comfortable and I smiled
and said yes, I'm fine thank you. (You didn't really think I was going through
that routine again). After
the 25 minute interview, I forgot how comfortable I was and stood up with chair
still gripping my hip. I simply
removed it like I was removing a skirt and smiled and thanked them for the
interview. Even after being a
professional, I still didn’t get the job.
I was reservee (good enough to do the job, but not fitting the required
image) I wasn’t told this, but
the actions, comments and expressions left me in no doubt.
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