A girlfriend comes to visit me at the bar last night. We’re chatting about college and how hard it was living on top of a hill. I reminisce,

“Walking up that hill was the only exercise I got.”

“Yeah, that was my chubby phase.”

“Chubby? I gained 30 pounds.”

I went from cheerleading and dancing four hours a day to sitting on my butt and going for two dinners a day. That’s right, breakfast, lunch, two dinners. Some of my friends went to dinner at five o’clock and others went at seven. Going twice was the obvious solution. Maybe if my mom had offered a buffet dinner from 5-9PM I would’ve gotten a handle on this problem sooner.

I have since cut back to three meals a day and started cheerleading again. That’s not true. I wish. But the three meals a day is a real thing.

My friend is slender now too. I tell her,

“I fit into my clothes from high school.”

“I don’t have any clothes from high school.”

“I still wear some of that stuff.”

“You WEAR CLOTHES from HIGH SCHOOL? What do you wear?”

Not quite from high school, but this hat still fits.