Immobile Babe
I woke up and then looked around the room to get myself
oriented. Sunlight streamed through the curtains and lit a strip of
the bed coverings. I reached over and hit the top button on the
strip that was installed on my bed. This button would tell the
kitchen staff that I was awake. I could smell baking cinnamon rolls
and my mouth had begun to water.
I stretch my arms and wiggle my toes, just about all of my
mobility at once. I punch the button that will bring my schedule and
menu for the day up on the computer screen hung over my bed. My
tummy rumbles at the thought of pigs-in-a-blanket and biscuits with
gravy for breakfast. I notice that today I will be taken from bed
to the spa where I will float in my hot tub for three hours before
my massage. I turn off the screen.
As I brush my blonde hair out of my face I notice (not for the
first time) that my upper arms is as big as the pillow that I lean
against. I smile at the fact that even my lower arms are bigger
than most women’s hips. My tummy rumbles again so I begin to run my
fat hands over the rolls and bulges that rise 4 feet off of the bed.