The "Man"

A word about Paul. I call him the "Man" because that's all he is. Have you seen him lately? He's nothing but muscles and washboard abs.

Now seriously, some of you aren't too crazy about the "Man" because of mistakes in the past, but I moved on. Maybe someday you will too. Until then...

"Man" has a tough job on his hands. He re-married someone whose chemo makes him "hormonal" (you ladies know exactly what I'm talkin' about). I'm very moody: one moment I'm smiling and greeting everyone on the streets, the next I'm hating everything and everyone in my path. When I'm hungry or tired, I take it out on him. It's all his fault. And whether he responds politely or rudely, neutral or supportive, his reaction is wrong.

"Man" also deals with a new side of me: my doctor has pulled me off a medication that increases my muscle to fat ratio. Because of this, I have more pudge to nudge around my stomach. It's frustrating because to a certain degree, no matter how much I exercise or diet, it will not go away. That makes me irritable and insecure.

While I put up with the "Man", I applaud him for putting up with me. He always finds a way to stay positive about what I'm going through when I don't see any good at all (which makes me even more irritable yet somehow encouraged).