You will TELL me what's in that box.

Ok so I weighed myself, Readers.   I weighed myself.   I'm not in a place where I will be sharing any numbers, but let's just say that it's time.  It's time time time.  It's time to go back to my roots of yestertime days, when I had a reasonable regimen of what I did and did not eat and went to the gym regularly.  Back before I had miss Elly McMakemomfat.  It was not hard for me to be a normal weighted size nine, though... and I could be a size 3 again, but that's much too worky.  I am happy at size nine where I still get cookies sometimes.  Not all the time such as now, but enough.  I am not a size nine right now is the thing.  I like size nine.  I like it.  I'm 5'7 and I think it's just right. 

My current health regimen includes eating everything I like plus beer instead of water and lots of not exercising when I should be.  SELF!  Augh.  So, after getting off the scale today, I hauled my fatness directly over to the wii and dance dance revolutioned for 60 minutes.  My fat was ticked off.  Take that, fat.  I hate every single song on dance dance revolution, by the way.  Every single one.  So I got angry.  That helped. 

Now,  I am not that upset about the number part.  I'm not falling to pieces over the number that I saw.  I just need to get myself back to healthy again.  I'm not used to being overweight.   I just never ever dumped my baby weight from 3 years ago.   I let it get comfy and settled.  I'm not even really FAT fat.  But I'm.. I think I'm getting jolly, Everyone.  Jolly.  If anyone calls me jolly, PS, they are getting a swift kick in the throat.   I feel like we can talk about this.  We're bonding now.  It's bonding time for us.

So anyhow, what happened is that I talked to my fat after having my baby 3 1/2 years ago.   I told it that it could stay for a while longer and that it looked comfortable in sweatshirts.  My fat liked hearing that and had a couple of cookies as it happily hummed to itself.  I said that if I ate 2 cookies, then 3 would probably not make much of a difference.  My fat agreed and had another cookie.  I decided to rename my fat, 'curves'.

"OOoOoh Pretty! I like that!  CURVES!", said Fat "Let's watch a movie!  I'll put my arm around you"....

I like watching movies.

I told my fat that we should go for a saunter on the treadmill one time and it was all, "Oooooh.. yeah about that... hmmmm... So  I hear that book you bought is preeeeetty weird!"

And then I was like, "Weird how?  Like weird weird?"

And my fat looked me in the eye and said "Ya-huh".  It was nodding and nudging me with a smirk while guiding me to my chair.  So I read... and got a beer.   I really like weird books, Readers.  I really like them.

So anyhow.  Back to eating like a reasonable human being and you know... moving around etc.  I keep envisioning myself in 20 years on a TLC special, hitting people with a cane because they refuse to bring me pizza anymore, and then the side of my house is chainsawed off and they get a crane and a flatbed truck to haul me to an experimental hospital in Mexico where they make me clap my hands for 45 minutes at a time and I can hardly handle it, but eventually I lose enough weight to walk again and you know where I walk to?  Pizza Hut, a-holes.

We don't want that to happen.  So.  Fat has to go before it invites its friends over. Fat needs to move to it's own apartment now. 

That is all.  I won't bore you with daily diet or tell you how many calories I ddr'd.  I'll tell you when I go for a jog and see someone letting their dog crap on the neighbor's driveway without picking it up though.  Oh Readers,  I will tell you THAT.   Yeah, when their little white pupae of an isopodish dog on a leash is curled on its back legs into a little squat, right on the neighbor's driveway- I'll come here and let you know.  That happened a couple of months ago, you know.  I watched as the dog owner just walked the dog back to his house, leaving that dog turd at the end of the other neighbor's driveway.  Like it never happened.  Oh I was shocked.  I was SHOCKED to my core.  I wanted to take my cat over to his driveway and squeeze her until she pooped. 

But I didn't.  

The End.