On the Plus Side

Anyway, this little man said something that made me really evaluate my world. He asked the group of multi-millionaires what they’d be willing to give up to make a difference in someone else’s life. It made me think of the things that I’d never give up. Money isn’t really a problem, especially for me, but what in my life do I hold dear?

My list is pretty pathetic for a twenty- year-old woman. Really pathetic!

There are few things in my life that you’d have to pry from my cold, dead fingers before they were ever taken from me.  The first thing is my Spanx. Which, in my opinion, are the best man-made contraptions ever, better than electricity or chocolate. The creators of these life changing pieces of cloth should be put on a pedestal for all the chubby girls of the world to worship. Spanx, the body shaping devices of the fatty girl world…I bow down to you.

I don’t know what they’re made of, or who came up with this fantastical idea, but they’re a godsend. If it wasn’t for my Spanx, every fat roll I own would spill forth like frothy white volcano lava. It keeps the back fat to a minimum, too. Everyone with extra poundage can appreciate that. There’s just nothing like walking around feeling like you have an extra pair of double D’s strapped to your back.

The second thing I hold dear, is my paid for, but not really nice anymore, ninety-seven black Honda Accord. Yes, I have money to purchase a new car. Yes, I probably should purchase a new car, but my car’s been with me through thick and thin. Well, not really the thin, more like the thick and thicker.  Referring to anything in my life as thin is just wrong in so many ways.

Finally, the third thing that I couldn’t live without is ice cream. As far as I was concerned, ice cream could heal broken bones if applied directly to the skin. Think about it. If you considered how many broken hearts ice cream has mended, it wouldn’t really seem that outlandish. Not to mention, ice cream is full of calcium.

Calcium + bones = good!

I think doctors everywhere should buy stock in ice cream products. It would save a ton of money in health care.

This kind of logic is what gets me through a pint of cookies and cream without the guilt of knowing two more pounds are coming my way. Hey, whatever gets you through your day, right?

Needless to say, the amount of suckage in my life was mind blowing for a girl with more money than she could count. I should’ve been happy. I should’ve been lying on a warm beach somewhere while my newly liposuctioned body was being massaged by my sexy boyfriend who had a really hot name like, Damon. I wasn’t. Instead, I went to work. I sat behind a jewelry counter working for money that I didn’t need in an attempt to achieve any form of normalcy.

The space between my chin and the heel of my palm started to sweat as I stared out the store window at the people walking by. OK, so today was going to be a bad day. Technically, since my day at work was almost over, it was already a bad day. Not to mention I had a coffee date with my mom that was rapidly approaching. Other than the fact that I’d have a reason to leave work early, I dreaded meeting my mom.  Our little coffee dates rarely ended on a good note.

As much as I’d love to put off facing the dragon, it was time to go.

“Shannon! I’m gonna go ahead and leave, OK? I’ll keep my cell close in case you need me,” I yelled.

I seriously doubted that anything would happen in the next thirty minutes that would require my excellent management skills, especially considering we may have had one or two customers all day.

“Go ahead, honey. See you when I get home!” She called back.

“Remember, call my cell if you need anything and please don’t forget to lock the top lock. Mrs. Franklin will have a fit if you forget again,” I said as she came from the back of the store.

I watched as Shannon stumbled around with way too many tiny jewelry boxes piled in her arms. She tossed them on the front counter and smiled innocently.  A stray lock of bright red hair attacked her eyes and I laughed at the face she made as she blew it out of her vision.

“I got ya’ covered, Lil. Have fun with your mom,” she teased.

Rolling my eyes, I walked out of the store and made my way toward my car.

When I got my license, my mom tried to convince me to let her buy me an expensive sports car. I think she was more worried about my sixteen-year-old reputation than I was. As if a girl like me would ever be happy with a car that’s too small. I’ve had to deal with things that were “too small” my entire life, why the hell would I torture myself more? Did she seriously think I’d want to stuff myself into a skinny girl car every day? Um…no thanks! Feeling like a sardine was never my thing.