I Blame Satan!!
It is difficult for me to believe I ate what I ate yesterday. I went totally berzerk. I lost my mind. I fell off the diet wagon like a big, swollen, bloated sow hog. I ate 8 pieces of pizza. Yes. That is right. That is not a typo. Eight. I know. It's jaw dropping. It's revolting. It's sickening. Especially for a woman who has been doing so well on her diet and eating her cabbage and oranges like a good girl. I used the excuse that I was celebrating since my oldest son had come home yesterday from his three week stay in the Flat Lands with his no-good daddy. Some people celebrate momentous days with alcohol. Some buy fireworks and grill out. What do I do? I ooooze along like the massive blob of goop I am and digest whatever happens to be within my reach.
So, today it's been fruits and veggies since I dragged my disgusting, food junky self out of my bed- which by the way has a sink hole in the middle of it where I lay. And, wouldn't you know, my ex boyfriend is visiting next door again. I want to yell, "Hey you dirty dog!!! Why'd you make me fat?" But I know it isn't his fault. It is all mine. I am to blame. Me and Satan. (Well, I can't take all the blame myself. ;-)