My mother has inadvertently shamed me into dieting. She’s all “I’ve lost 6lbs on South Beach” and then I look in the mirror or feel my large, pendulous breasts brush against my belly and next thing I know I’ve purchased eggs, meat and vegetables and I’m starting Atkins tomorrow. That’s right. A diet. What was it 3? 4? days ago that I said “I’m not dieting” ?? Because I can’t keep track anymore. Stay tuned. This is always a fun ride. I disgust myself sometimes, honestly.
If I could stick with it, though, it would be nice. I’m such a giant, fat shit right now. And it really does work. Sigh.