point where she simply had to put the brakes on her ever-expanding elephantine bod.
Sheâd put on the twenty pounds in her freshman year in college. While it was routine for students to complain about the food in the dorm cafeteria, Ana thought it was heaven. It was a big improvement from her motherâs cooking, and she could always count on there being something to eat. She loved that, not having to worry about whether there would be something to eat at the end of the month. There had been so many times growing up when she and her mom would have no food in the house. There would be spaghetti sauce but no pasta; peanut butter but no bread; taco-flavor packets up the yin yang but no meat, taco shells, lettuce, or tomatoes. She loved the dorm cafeteria. There was always cereal and milk for breakfast. At dinner, there was always an entrée and a vegetable. And there was a salad bar at every single lunch and dinner, which she found to be supremely reassuring. The cafeteria buoyed Ana with a sense of calmness and safety.
Added to her voracious appreciation of dorm food was her discovery of beer. Boulder had tough underage drinking laws, so going bar hopping before you were twenty-one was practically impossible, but there were always tons of house parties on campus. Plus, since Ana had befriended Ramiro and Scott when they were twenty-one, she was constantly going over to their house after practices to have a few beers and play epic rounds of video games or darts.
Ana had spent the last three years of college trying to lose weight, but she never lost more than a few pounds. She ate well and worked out regularly, but apparently eating until she wasnât hungry anymore was too much for her to reach her goal of lithe sveltness. So sheâd made peace with her weight; she wasnât unhealthily obese. But lately she hadnât been working out as much, so not only had she gained weight, sheâd gotten out of shape. It wasnât just an issue of vanity, although if she wanted to make it as an actress, it sure did help to be tiny. It was true that female comedians were held to slightly different standards than other actresses, enabling Roseanne and Rosie OâDonnell to become famous despite their weight, but it certainly didnât hurt to be thin. Ana couldnât remember the last time there was a large woman on Saturday Night Live, for example. There was often a big guy, like Chris Farley or Horatio Sans, but no big women.
But her real concern was that she didnât fit into her clothes and she didnât have the money to buy new ones. As she sat at her desk day in and day out, she could feel her thighs spreading out like pancake batter on a griddle. It felt like she was carrying around a sleeping kitten in her lap as her gut spilled onto her thighs. Maybe Chelsey could give her a deal on personal training. Maybe having Chelsey monitor everything Ana ate would help inspire her to work out more and eat better.
Ana brought her dishes to the sink and returned to the table. It was the time of the month that she always hated. No, not that time of the month. The rent-due-on-the-first-of-the-month time of the month. Rent was due in a couple days, and Ana had to get out her whip and flog her roommates roundly until they finally paid their share of the household expenses.
Ana paid all the bills in the house, mostly because she didnât trust anyone else to do it. Jason always wrote her a check without being asked, but Ana had to nag the other three for at least four days straight before they finally paid up. Ana hated to nag. Plus, Marin was chronically short of funds, meaning that there was always a lot of last minute âIâll pay you backâ negotiations to work out before Ana could deliver the rent and pay the utilities.
Marinâs perpetual cash-flow problem drove Ana batty. Marin hadnât had to take out any student loans, while Ana had had to pay for college herself. Ana would be
Sheâd put on the twenty pounds in her freshman year in college. While it was routine for students to complain about the food in the dorm cafeteria, Ana thought it was heaven. It was a big improvement from her motherâs cooking, and she could always count on there being something to eat. She loved that, not having to worry about whether there would be something to eat at the end of the month. There had been so many times growing up when she and her mom would have no food in the house. There would be spaghetti sauce but no pasta; peanut butter but no bread; taco-flavor packets up the yin yang but no meat, taco shells, lettuce, or tomatoes. She loved the dorm cafeteria. There was always cereal and milk for breakfast. At dinner, there was always an entrée and a vegetable. And there was a salad bar at every single lunch and dinner, which she found to be supremely reassuring. The cafeteria buoyed Ana with a sense of calmness and safety.
Added to her voracious appreciation of dorm food was her discovery of beer. Boulder had tough underage drinking laws, so going bar hopping before you were twenty-one was practically impossible, but there were always tons of house parties on campus. Plus, since Ana had befriended Ramiro and Scott when they were twenty-one, she was constantly going over to their house after practices to have a few beers and play epic rounds of video games or darts.
Ana had spent the last three years of college trying to lose weight, but she never lost more than a few pounds. She ate well and worked out regularly, but apparently eating until she wasnât hungry anymore was too much for her to reach her goal of lithe sveltness. So sheâd made peace with her weight; she wasnât unhealthily obese. But lately she hadnât been working out as much, so not only had she gained weight, sheâd gotten out of shape. It wasnât just an issue of vanity, although if she wanted to make it as an actress, it sure did help to be tiny. It was true that female comedians were held to slightly different standards than other actresses, enabling Roseanne and Rosie OâDonnell to become famous despite their weight, but it certainly didnât hurt to be thin. Ana couldnât remember the last time there was a large woman on Saturday Night Live, for example. There was often a big guy, like Chris Farley or Horatio Sans, but no big women.
But her real concern was that she didnât fit into her clothes and she didnât have the money to buy new ones. As she sat at her desk day in and day out, she could feel her thighs spreading out like pancake batter on a griddle. It felt like she was carrying around a sleeping kitten in her lap as her gut spilled onto her thighs. Maybe Chelsey could give her a deal on personal training. Maybe having Chelsey monitor everything Ana ate would help inspire her to work out more and eat better.
Ana brought her dishes to the sink and returned to the table. It was the time of the month that she always hated. No, not that time of the month. The rent-due-on-the-first-of-the-month time of the month. Rent was due in a couple days, and Ana had to get out her whip and flog her roommates roundly until they finally paid their share of the household expenses.
Ana paid all the bills in the house, mostly because she didnât trust anyone else to do it. Jason always wrote her a check without being asked, but Ana had to nag the other three for at least four days straight before they finally paid up. Ana hated to nag. Plus, Marin was chronically short of funds, meaning that there was always a lot of last minute âIâll pay you backâ negotiations to work out before Ana could deliver the rent and pay the utilities.
Marinâs perpetual cash-flow problem drove Ana batty. Marin hadnât had to take out any student loans, while Ana had had to pay for college herself. Ana would be
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