Tuesday, November 6, 2007

Hamsteak.

Am I crazy to think on day three that I can tell a difference? I feel like I fit better in my office chair and my stomach's not poking out as much. I looked in the bathroom mirror for awhile, and I think my face even looks slimmer.

Whatev. If it's just positive thinking, I'll take it!

Other things:

I'm afraid my breath is gonna stink from all this protein. Wasn't that one of the pitfalls of the Atkins diet?

This is gross, but my poop is already rock hard. I'm a girl who prides herself on a high-fiber BM, but since I'm not getting the fibe, I'm not getting the goods on the throne. I seriously thought I was going to tear a fissure during my ritual quittin-time-countdown poop sesh.

My farts smell like my grandma's farts. Yeah, elderly have distinct fart smells; it's almost always likened in my mind to filet-o-fish. Maybe they eat a lot of protein - definitely a lot of eggs. And no, I don't make a practice of smelling my grandma's farts, but old people can't really control their farting. They practically fall out. Anyway, I smell my dutch ovens and I think of Grandma Kavanaugh's bathroom.

She has a big white booster potty seat.

She also turns 90 this month - Happy Birthday Millie!

So there's that,

Laura

1 comment:

J said...

See I thought the title of your blog had to do with the song "Die Another Day" by Madonna, and that you were tackling your eating habits in a very 007 way, with synth breaks, guns, glittering diamonds and, of course, your breasts.

Guess that's just my take.

You'll have that,

Justin