Spandex Is Not My Friend

I have only a couple of things for you today.

First of all, I loathe my bathroom scale. It lies. Whore.

Everyone tells me that the weight loss is really noticeable, which I believe because the pants that I wore three weeks ago can now be removed without undoing the zipper. The cerebral part of the self knows this. But the emotional side of me just goes bat shit when I get on that machine and the digital read out says the same thing it said yesterday...AND THE DAY BEFORE...AND THE BLEEDING DAY BEFORE THAT!!!

All I want is a steaming bowl of tortellini, a loaf of warm bread and a bottle of 2003 Amarone Allegrini. And I want chocolate. Heaps of it. But noooo.....I don't give in because hanging on the back of my bathroom door is the Miracle Suit in all of it's girdle-like glory. I would rather watch a George Bush State of the Union speech (with the volume turned up) than face having to pull that baby on ever again.

So. I'll munch on my celery and try to be content.

In other news....

My.Deal.Came.Together.....For real.

My friend called me and said two words, "It's done." For the first few minutes, I sat in my office and stared out the window because I was quite certain that hell had just frozen over and I was interested to see what flying pigs might look like. Then I exhaled with the realization that I had been holding my breath.

Then, I reached for the power switch on my calculator and turned it on.........