Me and My Shadow. . .the experience

I saw my shadow tonight. In the dimly lit living room while I worked out I felt so invigorated. I felt like, "Yeah! I'm doing it. No more excuses." I was working it out. The kids were all in bed, the night was quiet and it was just me and my motivation, one on one, taking down the fat. I made sure not to get in front of the blinds because I didn't want to have my neighbors checking out my moves. I stayed in place where my shadow could dance on the wall in the house and not show off to the whole neighborhood. It felt great, just me and my shadow doing the cha cha, feeling the burn as the workout got more and more intense. Here we go, my favorite part, I get to go around and let my eyes meet North, South, East, and West. I get to really get my body moving. Although I couldn't see my shadow, I knew my shadow was feeling good. Getting moving and admiring itself for getting up off the couch always stuck behind me. Then in one turn went my eyes rested on the Western wall of the living room, I saw my shadow. I was petrified. I looked just like I did while I was pregnant. I once admired those curves because it meant that I was carrying life in my womb. Now, these curves scared the living daylights out of me. Instantaneous deflation of all the happy joyous feelings I had for my body. Although I carry my weight well when girded up and tied in, boy does this stuff look different in lycra. Do they make denim workout clothing? Can I just girdle everything up prior to working out? The questions just kept coming firing like an automatic weapon. How did this happen? What have I really been eating? Why didn't anyone wire my jaw shut? Who is that fatty on the wall? All the while I was still working out and staring at that shadow on the wall. We spent the rest of the workout plotting against that person on the wall disgusting themselves as my shadow. We reminisced on the good old days when my shadow was less. . .just less. Now the workout is over and here in the bright light of Vista I feel relieved that I looked at the shadow. If I let it remain in the dark part of the couch under my booty and behind my back, who knows what that shadow would have turned into. Forget No More Sheets. I say No More Mirrors. No more trying to find clever ways to disguise the mess that the shadow has created. No more excuses about how my shadow and I are too tired or have too much other stuff to do. No more. One day we will be together again. . . Me and My Shadow(the real one, because this one I have now is an impostor and I refuse to accept it into my home and feed it and have it laying on the couch with me taking up space)