Goodbye, Pulled Pork Sandwich with Cole Slaw.
See ya, Corn on the Cob!
Auf Wiedersehen, Banana Nut Bread.
Sayonara, Bagel with Veggie Cream Cheese.
Hello Disgusting Sense of Fullness. I've been expecting you all morning.
Seriously, there is no pleasure in this eating. It's like a frickin' death march - not that I'm mourning these foods, but that I feel obligated to eat them while I can. I'm not enjoying it, so why don't I stop?
In a way, I feel like if these last meals make me feel like crap, I will have no craving for these foods again. I'll remember how greasy I felt after downing that pad Thai last night. How unappetizing the cookie dough ice cream tasted on top of a full stomach at 9:30 pm. I'll remember the embarrassment of wiping corncob spray off of my cubicle walls just now.
Gross. I keep saying for the next 36 hours, I'll be Ms. Why Not. At time like this, when my stomach's distended so much that the stretch marks - slack two weeks ago - have now accordioned out again to contain my girth, I need to be Ms. Why.
At the very least, Ms. What Am I Doing?!
So there's that,