starting tomorrow

you've eaten
way too much chicken
and lie
there in front
of the tv
staring at
your swollen belly.
it resembles
a woman in
her second tri-mester.
you are suddenly
happy that you
aren't a woman.
you can work this
off come spring.
you loosen
your belt
and push your self
up off
the couch, bracing
yourself on
the coffee table
that shakes under
your weight.
you waddle over
to the fridge
for some ice cream.
it's too late
to turn back now.
spring is on
the way, you say
to yourself. starting
tomorrow a hundred
sit ups. where's
the chocolate?