Week 1 of the Gunnar Challenge thing done. Sort of.

It’s times like these that I know how American I really am. Sure, I may feel like a foreigner in a strange land living in an uber Amercian cowboy town in the mountains where everyone knows the lyrics to Toby Keith songs but me, where to vote Democrat might seem an act of treason, (which means I’m really under cover as a Green).

But nothing makes me feel more like an American like feeling it’s some sort of affront to my character to wait in a line or worse–not have the gratification of an instantly perfect body through um work instead of by knife. Waiting sucks and I’m impatient. Intellectually, 4 pounds gone sounds amazing but it’s so far away from the goal that I can’t see it. I stand in front of mirror. Where did it go and why didn’t it take more with it when it went? Yes, it’s the first week. Yes, I could have not had that second vodka tonic. But still, I’m an American, damn it. Body, do what I say.

About Margaret Elysia Garcia

Margaret Elysia Garcia primarily writes fiction, essays and poetry from a remote corner of the Sierra Nevada. She's currently working on a non-fiction book regarding body positivity through plus-sized alternative modeling .She blogs here and at Throwing Chanclas. And is the co-founder of Pachuca Productions a Latina owned microtheatre in Plumas County, California
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