Notes from the Road, #12

The weather’s finally starting to warm up on my run to the store. My family member’s hospital stay totally threw off my sleep schedule, or should I say, what passes for it anyway. I haven’t slept worth a damn in years, long before I lost the weight, and obviously long before they went into the hospital.

It’s a long story as to why. Everyone involved is on my shyt list, and thankfully long gone from my life too. At this juncture, it’s super ancient history anyway.

The snow banks are taller than me in some areas, leaving puddles big enough that if I go out tomorrow, I’m wearing the rain boots instead of the snow boots.

Being out during the day feels so strange to me. It’s been years since I was out this early, since before all this, I was in bed this time of day.

I honestly hate it. It feels like a bad omen to me. I walk down the streets with the cart as a safety measure since I have the granny cart, and I’m no longer able to haul it over those enormous snow banks like I used to be able to this time 4 years ago. .

I get to the store, and smell fish cooking from one of the nearby restaurants. Damn, I hate fish, but the way this restaurant has it on the menu almost makes me wish I liked it, haha.

The shopping center and its’ slush and puddle-filled parking lot looks like something out of a bad dream this time of day. I’m so used to seeing it in darkness during the winter months, not like this.

I head inside, ready for a round of getting them what they think they gotta have, nao! The store doesn’t have one thing they’ve been asking about for the past three days, so they’ll get it tomorrow. I saw something on my Ibotta list that I wanted to get for a dip to meal prep, so I left the granny cart by one of the end caps, and grabbed it.

I gotta put new duct tape over the handle. What I’ve got on there now is looking pretty tired. I wrapped the handle in it since the rubber covering the handle smelled like a cavalcade of buttholes. Seriously, that thing reeked.

This guy comes up to where I had the cart, and he looked like a slovenly mess. He looked like he hadn’t showered or bathed since the Obama administration, and unfortunately he smelled like it too. It was a potent combination of yeast and smokes, and I tried my best not to breathe in while keeping the poker face. In all seriousness, it’s the only thing, and the respectful thing to do, really.

Just so we’re clear on this, I recognize that people who get to this point are in a bad place with themselves, and my heart goes out to them. I have nothing but compassion for them, and I mean it!

I’ve been down that road myself, minus the smokes-smelling part. (Come on, ppl, smoking’s nasty af!) It was when I’d gotten to what I’ve since estimated to have been my highest weight, based on how what I wore at the time fit me in comparison to my confirmed highest weight.

Damn, those were some seriously dark and sad days for me. I wouldn’t wish this type of existence on anyone.

He said something to me after he spent idk how long leering at me. He then called me out of my name when I came back to get the cart. He did it in a way that would’ve destroyed me this time 5 years ago, and yes, it was related to size. I won’t mention the specifics, since it could definitely be a trigger for some of you readers, and on top of that, it was nonsense anyway.

He did it out of nowhere. He didn’t know me from Eve, and I didn’t know him from Adam. My response to him was a whispered ‘fuck you.’ I doubt he heard it, and I don’t even care if he did.

People have said similar shyt to me in the past before I lost the weight, and looking back, most of them had no room to talk. Yeah, I was fat at the time. Duh.

In other news, water is wet, bears poop in the woods, and the Pope is still Catholic.

In more than one instance, these same people then turned around, did an about-face, and fawned over me after the fact. Yeah, I’m not buying it for a second.

Anyways, I’ve heard instances of things like this happening to others who’ve lost weight, some of whom started at higher weights and were at a point that had them hovering on the larger end of standard sizing to the low end of plus sizing. It’s really heartbreaking, and upsetting on so many levels when someone dogs on you for the way you look, regardless of where you’re at in your weight loss mission.

I never saw that guy again after he turned around the canned food aisle, and I’m glad. It’s doubtful I’ll ever see him again, and tbh, I hope it stays that way.

I walked toward home, dragging the cart behind me with my good hand. In the past, this would’ve ruined my day, and possibly the next day too. Not this time. I felt at peace. I felt thankful that I’m not him, and that I never have to see or deal with that jerk again.

I’ll be counting my blessings for sure.

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