The Imaginary Exploits of Social Deprivation

First let me say I am not agoraphobic, I don’t like going outside…. There’s a difference. Ever since I was a kid I have spent all my time alone, I had friends at school but my school life never leaked out into my personal life. My mind learned how to entertain itself from a very young age and this little entertainment grew and grew over the years and developed into an entire world. I did none of this through my own will it was all accidental, a direct result of my social deprivation. These are my imaginary exploits.
Lately I have been waking up with a sore neck and the scary part is I think its because I’m getting too fat. I woke up today with the dreaded neck ache creeping its way up the back of my head turning into a headache. My right eye was still sore and blurry from being buried in my pillow. Dragging bare feet so I can get to my shirt that was left on the other side of the room. During the trek to cover my fat naked torso I start to contemplate how fat my neck has become.
I believe my neck has gone beyond looking like a pack of weenies to looking like a pack of ground beef. Like those guys you see on tv like Half Ton Dad and all those other shows that make you consider becoming anorexic. The road I have started down is a long and dangerous road that ends with me doing the splits all the time while I lay in bed. On the one hand I have always wanted to do the splits on the other hand what’s the point of doing the splits if it isn’t to kick someone in the head. My heart starts to beat a little faster and the pain in my neck begins to intensify because I’m focused on it. How close am I to becoming bed ridden and how fast am I getting fatter? At this split second I am reminded of a scene from “The Nutty Professor” where Eddie Murphy is dreaming and he keeps getting fatter and fatter until, “he’s like king kong with titties.”
Being bed ridden may not be so bad after all. I never leave my house anyways and my body type will finally match my body image.(cue violins for low self esteem) I begin to live out a day, in my mind, as a human mattress.
I am totally spread out on my queen sized bed, I feel the right side of my stomach/back fat hanging off of one side of the bed. I wake up because something is poking me in the back, is that the feeling of my kidney finally giving up? Nope, I fell asleep tweeting last night and it’s my laptop poking me in the back…. Whew, that was a close one. I feel a tug in my crotch as I try to adjust, my catheter tube is caught in the blanket, “Help, I cant reach the tube!” I yell into the darkness around me in hopes that my family didn’t finally leave me to my self imposed prison.
“WHAT” an annoyed voice yells from the other room
“My tube is stuck and it hurts, help me out” I cry back
“Not my job but I’ll wake the nurse” the voice mutters
In walks a 5’7” Mexican princess (shut up, its my daydream and I cast the characters as I see fit) in a nurses uniform. “Good morning, what seems to be the problem” she says wiping the sleep from her eyes. She spots the tube and takes care of it right away. I make a joke that makes her laugh and the room lights up for a millisecond before I remember that she is my nurse for a reason. Being bed ridden will always seem to take the pimp out my limp. The bed ridden depression already starts to set in, but on the bright side I don’t have to get out of bed to pee anymore. This day already sucks but there is no way it can get too much worse, right….. wrong.
“so, when’s breakfast?”
“right after your morning workout” the nurse says with a slight grin
I knew it, she hates me and enjoys putting me through pain. Well I can’t move so working out can’t be that bad. The nurse turns on the lights and hiding in the darkness are stationary cameras not only to judge me but make me self conscious about everything I do. “What the hell is that?” I growl pointing at the camera
“your going to be on Jerry Springer today, remember.” she says with a giggle in her voice. Laugh it up you bastard I’m going to need to poop soon then revenge will be mine….. Mine I tell you.(sorry that’s my inner super villain)
Well its workout time, gotta look good if I’m going to be on tv. I wonder what we are going to start with, then I hear the music….. It cant be. “Are you ready?” a very feminine male voice squawks from outside. The up tempo oldies is the first clue to who it is. Then he walks in and makes me wish I would have died in my sleep. Richard Simmons is the celebrity trainer they got for me especially for the show.
(I’m skipping this part because I never knew exercise could feel like rape)
I suddenly feel like the little girl from Willy Wanka and the Chocolate Factory, with a huge body and little bitty limbs poking out from the monstrosity. Forever a turtle stuck on its back unless the arm raises can get me back on my feet. Here comes breakfast finally, I bet if nothing else is good breakfast will be good.
“here you go” my nurse says as she stretches her arm toward me to reveal my ultimate disappointment.
“an apple?” I can feel my fore head start to heat up as the anger boils and my blood pressure almost kills me. If I wasn’t so hungry I would throw It at her, she is lucky I am hungry and have horrible aim.
(I awoke from this day dream because you don’t need to live out a whole day to understand that this sucks and that’s as far as I got before I found my shirt)
Is this my future, is this the life that I am destined to live…. Hell no its not. Its time to work out, right after cereal and cartoons for breakfast.