Phat

I don't understand how it can be the end of March. What this means, essentially, is I am going to lose yet another bet with T.


DAMMIT.


It always seems like I have tons of time to get serious about these last 10 or so pounds, you know? When he and I made this bet back in January, I couldn't even imagine how fast April 21st would be here. We bet that we both would weigh a certain amount by T's 40th birthday, (April 21st, duh), and it looks like one of us will and it won't be me.



DAMMIT.


I've been pretty good lately, doing the exercise, counting the points and drinking the water. But then there is cake and St. Patrick's Day and Crazy Club. They all trip me up. I counted last Wednesday and I had eaten 29 of my 35 flex points by 8pm. That is not good. I blame Uncle Tim.



Whatever, T. I may be fat but you will be OLD.



What must it be like to live without worrying if your belly is hanging out? Let's ask Johnny, shall we?

Looks pretty liberating to me.