Chelsea Jean. 20 years old. ISFJ.
Absolutely entirely in love with my
skinny Noodle boy.
fat [and loving it]. feedee. gainer. ommetaphobic. human. broken.
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I pinched a nerve in my back and I wasn’t sure I would be okay to work yesterday, so I called in to let them know that I would be a pretty useless cashier. But lately I’ve felt like that near constantly.
I get out late at night and work again early the next morning. My sleeping and eating patterns are no longer patterns. I’m not healthy, I don’t feel good, I just generally feel like shit and I feel like having any kind of set schedule would be so nice. I’d even work third shift if it meant that I could get a consistent amount of sleep. I have no energy to do anything. I don’t cook meals for myself most of the time because I’m too tired to wait for it to be done, and doing dishes is the bane of my existence.
and cleaning the apartment? The thought of it makes me want to crawl in bed and cry. and when I have days off, I try to actually get a decent amount of sleep - and most of my days off, I end up getting sick. WalMart is just really good at making sure I feel my absolute worst, all the time.
My mom and I are both cashiers at the same WalMart. I got the job last June, after getting out of the hospital [and jail, but that’s a different story that I don’t think about because triggers.] Anyway, having the job was wonderful. I finally had something to do, I didn’t spend all my time home, alone, in my room, sleeping. I had (and still have) problems with handling people and being extremely warm all day at work, but at least it was a job. I was getting good hours because my availability was open. I mean, the first two months, I got almost 40 hours a week. But that meant that sometimes mom had to come back to work to get me, or take me in on her days off. I don’t drive because a license is expensive and we only have one car, so I rely on my mom for rides to work (unless I want to bribe a friend to take me. But seriously, five bucks for them for gas is more than half an hour of dealing with assholey customers for me.). But she got tired of having to come get me late-ish at night, or taking me to work after church on Sundays, so she asked me to change my availability for her.
Understand: the Zone Manager for the front end that hired me told me when I got hired that she’d only hired me because I had open availability. They needed people who would basically take whatever hours they were given. I was okay with doing that. But my mom had already been granted full-time status, and she only works between 6 am and 6 pm. When I asked to change my availability to the same, so we’d both always work between those hours, I was told my hours would get cut. And they did. Down to 24, or less, per week.
Also understand: I am still at WalMart around 40 hours a week. Say my mom works 8:30-5:30. and I work 10:30-2:30. I will go into work with my mom (which requires leaving the house around 8 am) and wait for two hours before starting, work for four hours, and wait for another three hours. I wait for an hour longer than I work.
And this is almost every day. I wait (try to sleep) in the car until I start sweating to death, go wait in the break room, work, then go wait in the break room some more. I’ve done this for almost a year now. So today, when I told my mom I really didn’t feel like waiting for three and a half hours after work, she told me that I should have thought about that before I got a job, that she was tired of me complaining about it, and that she didn’t feel bad for me.
I got the job because I knew it would be good for my mental health, and because she was afraid she would come home to find me in a bad state. She didn’t want me to be alone all day.
I complain about it because I wait at WalMart for five fucking hours every day, doing nothing, not working or getting paid, just sitting there, because they cut my hours, and now they’re cutting everybody’s even more, and on the days that I do work full shifts, it’s at 6:30 in the fucking morning because I had to change my fucking availability for you.
I didn’t ask you to feel bad for me, I just thought it was my right to say that I’m tired of waiting. I feel like I’m stuck in this stupid rut and all I do is wait at WalMart and that’s why I put in my transfer request today. Because even if I have to live in a hotel and ride the bus to work, I’ll be out of here, and there will be people that appreciate me, and when I have to wait, it won’t be for five hours. I’ll be able to walk if I have to. I’ll be able to basically start living my life again.
So I’m sorry if you feel like I’m abandoning you, or that I don’t ‘have any appreciation for family’, but I need to start living and stop waiting.
Oh, you’re different than normal guys, open-minded, and progressive? A good guy?
Tell me more about how your ideal kind of woman is shorter than you, hourglass or pear-shaped, rarely short-haired, and by most standards a very traditionally attractive woman plus a hundred or more pounds.
Tell me more about how the BBW paysites cater to and reinforce this mindset.
Tell me about how gross and unattractive you think that tall, apple-shaped girl with the strong, toned legs and wide shoulders looks, and how you erase her womanhood by comparing her body type to a man’s.
Tell me more about how you put down skinny women because they aren’t sexually or aesthetically attractive to you.
Tell me more about how you treat fat women on the Internet as a potential source of pictures for fap material.
Tell me more about all the erotic stories involving weight gain you love to read, all the paysite ladies who often play up the idea of feeding/weight gain for your money and pleasure, and how much you love that your thin girlfriend has put on ten pounds and now has a pot belly.
Tell me about how those things don’t mean you’re a feeder.
Oh, also tell me about how your girlfriend doesn’t know you prefer fat women.
And you, older guy in the back, tell us about how you try to get with fat women 20+ years younger than you, but neglect to mention your wife to them, or vice versa.
And you, the kind of guy who hangs out at LTC or BBW-chan or wherever who “love fat chicks” but then become like every other fat-hating asshole once a woman over a certain size shows up. I don’t even get this kind of thing.
Tell me your behavior isn’t problematic as fuck. I fucking dare you.
Get out of your closet. And the fridge, too. Stop being a creepy shady Internet FA.
- Be a WalMart cashier at a very busy WalMart. Seriously, this is the most important step. Everything that follows just adds to the misery.
- Start getting horrid headaches and PMS and breast tenderness.
- Wake up one morning with sudden, inexplicable rage and sadness. Have feels the whole day.
- Wake up the next morning with sudden, inexplicable sinusitis symptoms (post nasal drip is an asshole.)
- Drink eight billion gallons of water trying to flush your system of gross bacteria and mucus.
- Piss like a racehorse that just drank eight billion gallons of water.
- Five times an hour.
- Eat an entire pizza because cravings!
- And an entire watermelon, too. Why not?
- Realize you can’t cuddle with your sweetie pie’s robe because you are sick and don’t want to get your sick germs all over it.
- Have the feels again.
- Wake up the next morning on a blue version of the Japanese flag. And cramps so bad you swear you’re going to implode.
- At 6:00 a.m.
- Work at 7:00.
- Until 3:00.
- Remember to smile, and thank the customer for shopping at WalMart.
I’ve been away from tumblr, feeding my Supernatural addiction and thinking about Michael and trying to ignore the rest of humanity. I have this throbbing pain in my left ear that feels like somebody is stabbing me in the throat through my eardrum. I don’t want to eat anything because sinuses and I want to eat everything because cravings. I just want to sneeze and cry and feel better. :(
I want to cuddle with my Noodle and fall asleepies nuzzled into him. Blargh. Sorry for this post.
Every time I try to stay awake, or just take a short nap, I end up sleeping for hours. I’m so frustrated. :\ On the nights when I actually want to sleep, because of work early the next morning or whatever, I can’t sleep at all. -_-
The book; not the movie.
It is completley brilliant. It’s beautifully written and Jo wrote it in a way where you can actually feel everything that Harry feels. I think it’s absolutely incredible.
And when Neville’s mom gave him the gum wrapper in St. Mungo’s? Every tear was a waterfall.
It really is a shame that the movie had to leave out so much. I don’t understand how they didn’t think to split it in two, when it’s the longest book of the seven. I can understand why they didn’t, but still. It’s sad to watch the movie after reading or re-reading the book.
ALL OF THE ALAN RICKMANS
I just really felt like writing for a minute.
Um. So, the man I love watches Fringe, and he’s talked about it for quite a while, so I decided a few nights ago to start watching it. I think I might become obsessed. Ugh. Add it to the insane list of shows I already watch.
- House on Mondays.
- Glee on Tuesdays.
- Off The Map on Wednesdays
- Grey’s Anatomy on Thursdays
And then there’s nothing from Friday to Sunday that I have to schedule my life around or DVR. Of course, House is the only one I care if I miss. But thinking about it makes me realize just how pathetic I have become, and I hate it. My days are spent doing nothing. Ugh. I’m going to stop writing. It’s making me feel worse. -_- I guess I just wanted to mention how I wish something would happen to me. Something, anything to make these thoughts and memories disappear. When I’m cuddling with the penguin he sent me ((whose name is Max, just in case you didn’t know)) or reading his favorite book ((it’s called Swan Song, by Robert McCammon…which i’m almost done with)) or watching a show he loves, it makes me feel closer to him, even if it’s just for a minute, and I love that. But the fact is, he’s three thousand miles away, and if he was here, he wouldn’t want to hold me. i know that’s true and it hurts…it hurts like hell. I weigh THREE TIMES the amount he does. I don’t know how he can even look at pictures of me without being disgusted, repulsed at the thought of having me in his arms. He means so much to me and I just don’t feel like I’m worthy of him. I’m just complaining and I know people would say, then just lose weight, do something instead of whining about it. I won’t make excuses for myself, but I can honestly say that it’s not that easy. I’m beyond describing how amazing it feels to be loved by him….but my insecurities get the best of me every day. I want to be desired. I want him to want me as much as I want him. -sigh- Please ignore me. /end rant.
I mean… compare us.
My amazingly sexy love, David.
With that I say goodnight.