Goodbye Bread. So Long Pasta.

I'm cranky.

I haven't had a decent carbohydrate in over a week. Even milk chocolate is starting to look good. I eyeballed my kids' Hallowe'en buckets this morning and seriously contemplated some sticky finger action. My son picked up on the desperation because I overheard him tell Olivia, "You should hide your candy." It's not like they couldn't spare a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup or ten.

Most of the women in my office are on some sort of diet. When you combine the food restriction with monthly hormonal fluctuations, you can imagine the atmosphere. Four of us have lost significant weight and while we rejoice about it every day, there is an edgy undercurrent. Although the men have said nothing (so, so smart), they seem to sense that the jovial mood is a mere baguette away from lunacy. They're like deer. They stop, sniff the air and get a hint of danger but too often, they're standing upwind and can't tell they're in the cross hairs until it's too late.

One of the girls is restricting herself to 500 calories a day and a supplement from her ND. Five hundred calories. You know what that looks like? 6 eggs. 5 slices of dry toast. A Big Mac. She claims the supplement staves off the hunger and she is down about 12 pounds in 10 days but 500 calories? I'm not sure my body would continue to breathe or pump blood and I definitely know that I'd be dangerous in a manic, for-Christsakes-feed-me sort of way.

Skinny Steph the Magnificent refuses to weigh herself but the pounds have obviously melted off of her. I suppose the extra weight she was carrying on her left earlobe was bothersome. She's been watching her carbs and after witnessing her shed a pant size in a week, I jumped on the low carb wagon. I hate my scale but today, I succumbed.

I am down a total of 10.6 pounds in 10 days. I have lost a pant size.

Rah, rah. I am pleased with the results but why does everything really good in life have to be illegal, immoral or fattening?

There is some motivation, however. I was speaking with sistah cousin the other day about our spring break plans. Originally, we were to go to Vermont skiing. As you know, I was slightly apprehensive at the thought of barrelling down the side of a mountain so when she told me that they were having a hard time booking my accommodations for that particular week, I wasn't too upset. Instead, of skiing, we have tentatively decided to meet back at Disney. I'm thrilled except for the prospect of spending a day at one of the water parks stuffed into a Miracle Suit.

NOT THIS TIME!

I have made myself a promise that my next trip to Blizzard Beach will see me in a cute little two piece. Period.

How's that mid-life crisis coming along, you ask? Just bloody dandy. Now bugger off unless you've got carb-free dark chocolate that doesn't taste like a laxative.