Day 10, I’m too tired to do anything today. But tomorrow I’ll start my diet, and answer some of my fan mail

Have you ever tried dieting in a houe with three boys?

So, after seeing myself in several pictures ~and being horrified~ I started back on my “doctor diet”. It went like this: I dated a boy who woke me up in the middle of the night (usually around 4am) with the tastiest patty melts in the south. And no matter how much sex you have you can not work off three meals a day plus a late night greezy cheesey sandwich when you’re over thirty. Then I broke up with said boy. Okay I was abandoned by the drugged out I should have never been in a relationship to begin with boy. Needless to say it did not end well. So after a brief “I’ll lose wait and be so fucking sexy and show him” period I fell into the classic eating my way through loniless and depression phaze. Then I couldn’t remember why I didn’t just eat donuts if I wanted donuts. And what the hell, why not order pizza and eat the whole thing? And then right as I was starting to realize I might be turning into a whale or more accurately I realized how badly I needed to get laid, I got sick. Those god damn med. they put me on force me to eat. Eat or get sicker. So now here I am. Thirty pounds heavier than I want to be. Fifteen pounds heavier than I’ve ever been before. Depression does not cover what I’ve been feeling. I’ve been in full out sweats and moomoos mode. My clothes are just too good for me in my current state. And let’s face it most of them don’t me right now anyway.

So I turned to my trusty doctor diet. It has worked fabulously for me in the past. I love the packaged food. Mostly it’s chocolate pudding and chocolate bars. You eat five of their prepackaged foods plus 96 ounces of water a day. Which for me is all good. Last time I lost twenty five pounds and I ate real dinners and whatever I wanted on the weekends. So this time I decided since these were drastic times I would take drastic measures and absolutely not cheat. Except on my birthday, of course.

So I’ve been doing good. Damn good. Five packets of specailly formulated prepackaged food, 96 ounces of water, 40 minutes of walking, 70 crunches, and a 15 minutes of yoga every day this week. No cheating. Not even a bite of real food. Not even a nibble. And then when I could cheat ~ I even had permission from the diet doctor himself for my birthday~ I didn’t go overboard. I had one roll of sushi, one order of beef satee, and two cocktails. I didn’t even have desert. Pat myself on the back, right?!

Well today, day 6 of the serious diet, I don’t feel good. My breathing is sucky and I’m tired. It’s Sunday. The day of rest. And I was feeling a bit under the weather. Around dinner I felt like food. Real food. Last night I dreamt of donuts and Godiva. And TLOML coming to his senses and sweeping me off my feet. But that part of the dream wasn’t fattening. I wanted a hamburger. Or a hot dog. Or a pizza. Or food. I wanted food. So I go downstairs where one of the three boys I currently reside with was watching tv. As I threw myself down on the couch I said, “I want food.” and the boy said, “No you don’t. You don’t want to ruin your diet” Fuck you, I thought. So I sat there. Feeling the guilt. Still wanting the food. Then I remembered that I had a Lean Cuisine pizza in the freezer. So I reasoned that it was really pbarely cheating. I had only had three of my five packets today so I ate it. And it was good.

And then my son came wandering by. He takes one look at me and says, “So you cheated on your diet?” Okay, I don’t need the guilt of eating it and the guilt my son was giving me. Three boys three times the guilt.

What is it with them. They have no issues with self control. Well, in the diet area anyway. These three boys can’t imagine why I would cheat on my diet. And they give me no credit for how good I’ve been doing! Well, fuck them. I’ll show them when I weigh in on Wed. and I’ve lost a buttload a weight. I hope so,anyway!

Let me tell you what happens when you drink 96 ounces of water a day. You pee. You pee a lot! It’s just like being pregnant ~ without the hemroids. Well, I’m off to pee. Again…


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