Tuesday, March 9, 2010

The Wedding Diet

So. It. Has. Happened.

Dear cookies, cakes, chocolates, chips, candies and cereal,
        I'm sorry, but I need you to stop taunting me. Stop whispering my name when I'm sleeping, or when I'm tired, or when I'm hungry, or when I'm not hungry, or when I'm bored. I do not want to hurt your feelings, but I also do not want to be near you. You've given my hips a new shape and for that I hate you. Don't pretend to be sweet, we all know you are not; you are evil, ugly and cranky. We've been together a long time, and I need you to understand that this isn't easy. What I'm saying is, well, it's not you, it's me. I'm not who I used to be. I'm not some spunky 15-year-old anymore, I've changed and now I need something different. I need a waistline.
        Thank you for your years of comfort, but we need to go on a break.
                            Your old friend,
PS- please disregard all of the above on my birthday while I'm scarfing my face off. Thx.

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