With
less than a week left on the Groundhog’s Day Diet I am suffering from meal plan
Stockholm Syndrome. I am currently dining with id’s autopilot – same meals,
same times, same places. The daily routine has drawn me closer to my
capture – longing for the same shall hold no shame.
But
wait, there is more!
Fat guy me tendencies will always be there. He is held up like a warlord in the
deep recesses of my mind where flattered egos dare not venture in the fear of
finding one’s true self sucking down milkshakes with extreme prejudice. All the
while fat guy me plots a revenge so great that my stretchy paints will be overwhelmed by
gut rolls and jelly thighs. She can’t take much more, Captain!
I
am expecting to be down over thirty pounds in seven weeks after the GDD is completed
midweek next. At this pace I’ll be 195 pounds by Labor Day. With that type of momentum,
I might as well just consider buying a quaint cottage in Stockholm to continue
my summer of slim. Relocate to one of them thar pet groundhog friendly HOAs.
But
wait, there is more!
Hansel
and Gretel were fools to think the birds would leave their breadcrumb alone.
Rookies! Fat guy me placed donut cairns all along the trail, because he knows
my weak constitution will fold like a cheap menu at the first all-you-can-eat
Twinkies & fried chicken joint I happen across. That feed trough
will point me right back to fat guy me’s lair of simple carb comfort by Halloween.
But wait, there is... nope... never mind... Just s'mores!
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