Day 8, Redux

Day 8.  358.  Down a pound even though I pigged out on sushi last night.

I wish it were as easy to stay on a diet as it is to start one.  I’m down 11 pounds.  Yesterday was an official day, and if I lose weight at the rate I’m currently losing, I’ll be -18 pounds by my birthday next year.  *smirk*

OK, it will eventually settle down to a pound every few days.  And that’s when I will start to feel uninspired and go off the diet.  Again.  And start gaining weight back.  Again.  And get all depressed about it.  Again.

I don’t want to look like a supermodel.  (Well, I do, but I know I won’t.)  Right now I just want to be under 300 pounds, so that I can fit in a single airline seat comfortably.  That’s all I want.  300 pounds.  

I want to be thin more than I want to win the lottery.  More than I want to find a boyfriend and get laid.  More than I want world peace.  Which is depressing as hell, if you think about it, but there it is.  I don’t want to have these knees and these ankles and always wear these comfortable shoes with the arch supports.  I don’t want size 12 underwear and bras with 44 band size and 2X shirts and size 26 skirts.  

I admit that I’m past the point where I will be young and pretty and sexy, but could I at least not be gross any more?


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