chapter 13

It was a struggle to finish the delicious mixture. It was so rich and creamy, but by the time I saw the bottom of the bowl I was sick of it. I doubted I would be repeating this event any day soon.
It was time to divulge in that cake...

The nurses who saw to my wound were concerned about me. They saw me two or three times a week. They noticed my weight gain and told me I ought to 'lay off the pies' a bit until I could take some regular exersise again. Another one thought that I was depressed and overeating to help my mood. She thought I might feel isolated because I couldn't work or do the things I usually did.
I told her I was fine. I had Pete at home, remember? I didn't tell her I was overeating to gain weight on purpose. I didn't tell her I was enjoying every minute of it and I loved every inch of globulous fat.
I told her that when I returned to work I was going to set up a special weight loss class. I would lose weight alongside everyone else, show them how it was done. She admired my confidence and changed the subject.

My boss asked me to call in one day to 'have a chat'. I knew it would be to discuss my sickness and when I was going to return to work. I had a doctor's note. He couldn't force me back. I was not ready to come back.
I wore casual work out wear, but I chose a size that was just a little bit too clingy. Something that accentuated my new curves and the three stones that I had put on since I had last gone to work.
His eyes went passed me at first. Maybe it was the bread and the long hair? He did not recognise me.
As the realisation dawned, he looked at me with horror! I had got fat! I said nothing. He didn't have to. His face said it all. His reaction should have left me ashamed and embarrassed, but I relished in it. I lowered my chin to show off the newly saquited second one underneath. I pulled back my jacket and leaned back in my chair to scratch an itch that did not exist on my side just to show off my globe of a belly.
His eyes nearly popped out on stalks!
He had a company policy to adhere to. He was obliged to have this conversation. He even had a checklist of questions he had to ask me.
He had to write down the details of my accident and the injuries I had sustained. Was there anything he or the company could do to help? He had to refer me to occupational health for a second opinion. He was so sorry about my injury. The roads were so dangerous these days. More small talk. He had to tell me about company policy. I was entitled to six months on the sick on full pay. Then I would have to go down to half pay. If I was not able to return to work after a whole year, I would stop receiving any pay and they would have to consider terminating my employment.
I was lucky. If I'd gone completely free lance, I'd get nothing. I worked for a big company who understood that injuries occurred often in their industry. They were big enough to absorb such generous allowances. My boss suggested that when I did come back to work I should come back on a 'phased return'. That would give me tie to increase my fitness to the level that was expected in my job.
I laid it on so thick. I said I'd been put on steroids in the hospital after I came out of intensive cave. I told him that they had piled the weight on me. I told him I was desperate to come back to work, but I simply was not allowed to exersise. Lack of exersise was tearing me apart!
The reality was, I had no intention of returning any time soon. The thought of going back to a life of two or three workouts every day was my idea of hell now. I was not going to go back to it. I was going to milk the company for all I could get. I was going to laze around and eat as much as I could afford for the next three months. When I went down to half pay I would have to economise, but I had no intention of losing weight. I would reconsider my options.
A thought crossed my mind. I could spend the rest of my life on state benefits. I would not have to lift my finger to work. If I made myself fat enough, I would be unemployable. If I was so fat I could not walk, I could claim disablement, which would come with lots of other allowances not accessible on unemployment benefit. I could have someone to do all my daily chores for me. Someone else would come and help me up, wash me, dress me, take me to the toilet.
I could sit like a king running my own kingdom, watching them running around after me, while I ordered my food to be delivered and sat around doing nothing but eat and make myself even fatter!
Oh the thought of that kind of lazy fat slob lifestyle gave me a hard on! It might not be a good healthy choice, but it was my ambition to be like that. I was going to be a professional fat man!
On the way home I tried to devise a way of getting the maximum fat calories into me. Would I be able to drink melted butter on it's own. Hmm maybe not. But I could add butter to everything. If not, I could add extra cheese or extra cream.
The meeting that should have spurred me on to improve my health and increase my fitness had the opposite effect.
It spurred me on to get fatter and do even less than I was doing now, which was next to nothing.