I may have had the freedom of a web dynamo, but I have the posture and back problems of a cubicle-dweller.
People tend to think that if you work from home, that must mean you spend the whole day power-walking in the park, maybe flying kites or doing somersaults in fields of daisies.
I wish. My wife probably does too.
I was a skinny kid growing up, and skinny into my early 20s. When I complained about it, all I got was “Well you should feel lucky! People slave a the gym for YEARS to try and look like you do.
Like a stiff breeze would blow me over, you mean? Yep, dream come true. I’ve had to beat the ladies off with a stick.
Skinny for a man isn’t hot. Sure, rock stars get the heroin-addicted bad boy thing; I got the computer nerd thing. There’s an antiquated phrase – 98-pound-weakling, who in comic books and on cigarette cartons would get sand proverbially kicked in his face.
But my wife likes my body, and I love her, and don’t care what anyone else thinks, so I’ve been happy.
Fast forward through six years hunched over a keyboard and a VOIP phone console. I am drifting into dangerous territory …
… a much-dreaded land known as “skinny-fat.”
I mention it to people and I either get the response of “You’re crazy!” or “You’re anorexic!” or another lecture about how I should count my blessings for getting for free what supermodels have to work for.
That’s it – I missed my career path! Forget eCommerce and DVB … I should have been a supermodel! Why didn’t I set my sights lower …
Maybe I am anorexic, or at least body-dysmorphic. I don’t think so, though. Know what it is? I get tunnel vision and I forget to eat. By which point I’m starving and I binge-eat high-test crap. And drink beer.
So what is “skinny-fat?”
I propose that it doesn’t really mean what people think it means – a girl who was once skinny but is now fat, or vice-versa.
No, it applies to both men and women, where you’re in that unattractive, ill-proportioned in-between state, where you’re not really heavy-set – your frame is obviously still skinny, but you start to become lumpy and mis-shapen. Small chest, but with love handles or a potbelly. Skinny ass … but saggy. No bueno.
My wife hasn’t said anything (though she probably will after she reads this …)
… but I started the DVB site to try and break out of the wage-slave world, because I thought I could do better. I thought I owed myself better than to just punch a clock and marinate in the illusion of “job security.” (Hint – your job is not “secure” when you can be terminated at will.)
Plenty of people told me “Why quit??? Your job has benefits, it pays well, it’s better than most. Starting a business is so risky. Why put yourself through it? Why put your wife through it? You should count your blessings. You’re crazy!”
Fortunately for me, Kelly is even crazier than I am. (Hi, honey!)
In the end, though, none of the naysayers mattered. I knew what I wanted out of my life, and I set about getting it. Curing the skinny-fat is no different. Maybe that’s my next project, now that the sale is done and I have some room to breathe.
I’m told that exercise requires breathing.
Small hiccup – I hate the gym. I’ve never found that place that fitness geeks seem to find where lifting weights in a rubber room full of sweaty meatheads gets my rocks off.
This is going to take some thought …