I wasn't kidding when I said I was gaining weight. Yesterday I squeezed myself into some pants that I just bought last month before we went to the Bahamas. (As in had to lie on the bed to zip them, and then walked around with the always sexy upper belly bulge all day long) Then, later in the day while at home, I was walking around all Al Bundy style cause the pants were so damned small they could stay up with out being totally zipped, and when I sat down the zipper burst. Like, little metal zips went flying out of the zipper fabric. Like I have to get them re-zippered at a taylor now. A month ago, they fit with room. Today- bursting zippers. OMG people, this is surely suicide, except it isn't about being fat it's about stress/I can't cope/I don't want this responsibility/It isn't fair/What am I going to tell the kids kind of eating every waking second, but, I read Time magazine last week, and since I am an apple (versus a pear), and also Bubbles has been cheerily suggesting I do this this, I know it works from past experience, and I burst my freaking brand new pants that were three big fat sizes bigger than the pants I wore a year ago, today it is all about "Hello Atkins type, low glycemic, no carb, no fun diet!" Woo Hoo.
Just don't ask me what I ate last night in preparation for all the deprivation.
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