I'm ravenous. Starving. And bitchy.
I feel like a flesh-eating zombie, walking around with nothing in my head but thoughts of how I will get my next meal. I would rip apart walls, chainsaw you to pieces, or trample my fellow zombies just for a bite of mac'n'cheese right now. Or even a piece of carrot cake with cream cheese frosting. Or a slice of pizza. Even crappy cardboard-crust pizza. Just something with gooey melted cheese.
Why would I subject myself to such torture you ask? I am getting married in 6 weeks and want to be skinny. Unlike most brides who want to be skinny so all their guests will be jealous and fawn over them, I want to be skinny for the pictures, so that when I look back 3o or 40 years from now, and I'm old and wrinkly, I can say, " damn, I looked good!"
Mr. T and I are going to Mexico, just the two of us. I'd say we're eloping, but we got the parental "ok" to do it alone. Let me just say how AWE-SOME it is to not have to stress about a reception, guest lists, registries, a big wedding gown, the cost!, and everything else that goes along with a full blown wedding. It just isn't me. Never has been. And I couldn't be happier to be doing it alone, away from home, and on a beach. (Plus, I have a secret fear that I'll start cracking up and laughing hysterically during the vows.) BUT! we'll be in Mexico. So I can't be looking all post-holiday puffy like everyone else. So I'm back on the Points.
Yup. Weight Watcher Points. They are perfect for me, because I like structure, but not too much structure. I can eat what I want, but only within a strict daily budget. It really works for me. I lost about 20 pounds over the last year doing it. But I gained a few back these past few weeks, and now I need to get that off, and say... another 10 pounds by January 15. Here's hoping.
I'm getting a personal trainer for the next 6 weeks. My first session is Saturday. I specifically told the trainer that I want an ass kicking, that I want her to keep pushing me even if I'm crying and face-flat on the floor, that I want her to ravage me, and call me a cry-baby and drive me into the ground until I die. It may end up being a bit reminiscent of Such a Pretty Fat, but who knows... maybe I'll get some good blog material out of it...
THE DAILY SASS:
"Because what good is finally being able to afford a pedicure if I lose a foot to adult onset diabetes?" --- Jen Lancaster