My own little Cinnabon Hell

"Why," I ask myself, "does my house smell like a Cinnabon, that sell pork?"

Answer:

Because Andy decided to make Spam with brown sugar glaze with eggs for dinner, and then put a wax tart that smells like cinnamon rolls in the tart warmer.

Why does that make me want to go on a murderous rampage?

Because I started my "Official" diet, aka Fast for a Month-plan today.

What is allowed on my diet for the first 3 days, you ask? Water, Iced tea with Sweet and Low, and Coffee with fat free creamer.

A food fast.

That's right. I am hardcore and have to shrink the stomach to reduce cravings, while flushing everything out of my body, and re-set my metabolic clock.

That is the kind of Cage-Fighter willpower I have. Once I get on a roll, and commit...I am a dieting ninja.

The challenge in sticking to my diet is going to be my alcohol consumption this weekend, as my inlaws are coming. And Canadian drink. ALOT. That is one of the "Pros" of my husband's family. They drink like fish. My family..it is a "Con". They need to drink MORE. And we're going to Napa, which is like the gates of heaven were flung wide open and Angels fly about refilling your glass.

My husband has been occupying himself with posting listings on CL to barter items we don't need or use. He thinks that due to the show Barter Kings, he can trade a bunch of tools and crap for a boat or hot tub or RV to work on for something to keep himself busy. Instead, we've gotten an XBox, a Generator and a bicycle.

The XBox was promptly taken to GameStop to cash in. The Generator, I am not sure he should trade, as it is the year that the world will end, or at the very least, a solar flare will knock out the grid, causing mass chaos and hysteria because of all the technology we depend on. And that, my friends, is God/Goddesses' lesson to all of us that we worship technology.

The bicycle, I look at daily.

Should I mount it?

Can I even ride a bike anymore? When is the last time I was actually ON one? Will my giant ass envelope the seat?

I keep telling myself that I WILL ride one day. I will use that for my requisite exercise that everyone tries to tell me that I need to do to lose weight. (Which is BULLSHIT)

It's bullshit because I've lost weight a million times NOT EXERCISING. And then everyone wants to say, "Well, it's not healthy to lose weight by starving yourself."
And I say, "Well, it's healthier than being fat."
And people say when I gripe about gaining back all the depression weight loss I had, that I didn't lose that in a healthy way. Like it's supposed to matter. The only GOOD thing that came out of my life-altering, come to Jesus, knock me down backwards depression WAS the weight loss. Because if nothing else, I looked hot as balls.

But instead, the Dr put me on hardcore meds to knock me out because I hadn't slept in a year, and I gladly followed the Pied Piper with his sleep drugs, not realizing they made me crave sweet stuff at midnight, which I was happy to oblige.

Sleep or Skinny?

Happy or Skinny? (Happiness includes food binges, say...on fondue and bread.)

It all sucks, and now I have to pay the price.
Goddammit.