Arrrgh! I am hungry. I am hungry enough to forget the reasons I need to lose these stupid, ridiculous, fat-fat-fat fifty pounds. Isn't it ironic that, fat as I am, I'm still starving?! Starving for more, always, always more. More chocolate. More sleep. More time to write, to read the forty books stacked beside my bed, in the back seat of my car, under my pillow. (Yes. You read right. I have a dog-eared copy of Gift From The Sea under my pillow. Just in case I wake up needing some peace and calm.)
Today I was a very bad Fat Girl. I ate On The Run. That would be the Mickey D's salty ham biscuit. With Coke. I then proceeded to devour a hot, greasy sausage on thick white bread at the library snack bar. To make matters increasingly worse, while I waited in the Car Rider line for Caroline, I sneaked in a Reese's Easter egg.
Now I am bloated and sick, and very irritated with myself. But, looking on the perennial bright side, I am going to keep going, not give up on myself, and cook a healthy delicious dinner tonight. My real Challenge doesn't start till May 1. Now you see why. I'm a Slow Learner. I am Food Dyslexic. I need to give myself plenty of time to get used to the idea of No More Junk Food.
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