I started a diet last week. Yes, I swore I’d never do one again. But frankly, I am looking more like Miss Piggy than—well, than not. So it was time to do something. My diet counselor said I needed a daily diet diary so I can track what I eat, what I do for exercise, that sort of thing. It’s supposed to inspire me to stay on my “new lifestyle plan” which is fancy diet counselor speak for “diet.”
Personally, I think the diet counselor wants me to keep the diary so she can see if I cheat. Well, that’s stupid. I’m on a diet. If I didn’t cheat, I wouldn’t need a diet. But here it is anyway, my diet diary.
Day One – Get up out of bed. Realize that the only thing I can consume for breakfast is air and a piece of fruit. Go back to bed.
Get back up because Kirby and No-no Lulu stand on my stomach and breathe into my face until I can’t stand it. Put on new “walking wear” I bought at Kohls. Plan to briskly walk five miles uphill. Walk two miles, feel faint. Must have been the bad air I had for breakfast.
Eat snack of low carb bar and biggest salad I can make. It’s only 9 am. I spend the rest of the day dreaming of Big Macs. I can taste the French fries.
Day Two – Can’t get out of bed due to exercise yesterday. Didn’t sleep very well. Kept dreaming of ding-dongs and cupcakes dancing in my stomach.
I can’t possible walk. Decide I will lift weights instead. Lift one weight. Drop it on my toe. Exercise today consists of jumping around on one foot while swearing.
Day Three – If I don’t eat I will die. Must be why they call it a die-it. Sneak bites of Junior’s breakfast. Realize I have eaten all of Junior’s breakfast.
Still can’t walk and weights are out of the question. Decide I will do exercise DVD. Put old Jane Fonda DVD into player. Exercise consists of figuring out how to make the DVD play.
Day Four – Had disturbing dream of being in a bathtub full of cookie dough ice cream. Eat usual breakfast of air and fruit. Decide one bite of cookie dough ice cream won’t hurt me. Drop into sugar coma after consuming entire half gallon.
Exercise consists of putting spoon to mouth.
Day Five – Did not dream last night. Must have been the sugar coma. While eating grapefruit without sugar for breakfast, I pretend that I am really eating Eggs Benedict from favorite breakfast place. It does not make the grapefruit taste better.
Play old Jane Fonda DVD. Exercise consists of laughing at the dancers in their shiny workout clothes, big hair and headbands and wondering what part of the legs that leg warmers actually warmed.
Day Six – I am practically swooning with hunger, but feeling that the pounds have melted away. Try on a pair of pants that did not fit six days ago. They still don’t fit. To celebrate the fact that I haven’t lost a pound, breakfast is Eggs Benedict at my favorite breakfast place.
Exercise is walking from the house to the car.
Day Seven – After one week, I am feeling fit and fine. Eat usual breakfast of air and fruit. Walk five miles uphill in the rain. I have lost twenty pounds.
Realize that lack of food has gone to my head and I am now hallucinating.
Day Eight – Find a fly in my bowl of tasteless diet cereal. Debate whether to eat it or not. Search diet books to find out how many calories dead flies floating in cereal contain. Decide not to eat the fly. To reward myself for not being so desperate for food that I would eat a dead bug, I eat an entire bag of Hershey’s Kisses.
Exercise consists of unwrapping each piece of chocolate and carefully separating the paper strip from the foil wrapper for recycling.
Day Nine – My fat pants no longer fit. Review my diet diary. Other than a few slip-ups, I don’t see anything that would warrant such massive weight gain. It must be the diet counselor’s fault. Certainly couldn’t be mine.
Exercise consists of repeatedly hitting diet counselor on the head with my diet diary. Um. Well. That was kind of a fantasy. But it still counts.
Day Ten – I am done with this diet. Ate breakfast. It wasn’t fruit, unless you count the filling in the pie. Didn’t exercise either, unless you count the struggle to button my fat pants.
It’s a perfect day.Add me to your rss reader | Become a Fan on Facebook!