tobermory's Diaryland Diary


I'm so pretty!

I still donít get how this diet is going to work. I just had a bacon mushroom cheeseburger (no bun, of course) for lunch and it seems really wrong. It did work last time (before the sojourn to the lands of noodles, bread and beer) so I guess Iíll just keep on keepiní on. Iím hoping that it wonít sap my energy when I run. I figure if I can hold out the necessary two weeks than I can move into Ďphase 2í where I can eat some things like apples and brown rice to bring back the energy producing carbs. I hate brown rice, but I figure that by the time Iím allowed to have it, it will be a New Taste Sensation! and Iíll like it. Yeah, thatís the ticket. For those interested, I seem to be 2 lbs. down, but that could just be normal body fluctuations.

The other thing is that this diet is messing with my digestive tract. Folks, it doesnít take much to send my quirky intestinal system into a major freakout and apparently Iíve stepped over the line. I have the D-word. Those who know me will know that this means diarrhea. The D-word is among my least favorite words, others being: gown, slacks, and both. Both makes the list because if you listen carefully when most people say it they say Ďbolthí and for some reason that makes me want to shove bamboo under my fingernails. Go figure. The D-word is fairly self-explanatory. Itís gross, no-one likes it, and itís unpleasant to have. But have it I do. And sadly I am saddled with inadequate toilets both at home and at work. If I have an Ďepisodeí at either bathroom it requires a double flush to avoid, as that guy from Ally McBeal would say, Ďremnants.í So embarrassing. My husband is a contractor for christís sake and one would hope that at least at home I would have a Big Powerful Toilet. Nope. We have some crappy leftover from a job he worked on before he knew me. I can only hope that everything stabilizes digestively in the next few days. If it doesnít, maybe I can start steering Steve towards the power-flush toilets. I think all Iíd have to do is stop double flushing at home and itíll move him right into full-on plumber mode.

To top it all off, I have cramps. And my purse container of Advil is empty. The slight vibration you may feel is me putting my head down on my desk and sobbing. The cramps have gotten better since Iíve been on the pill, but they still suck. If it werenít for the whole osteoporosis thing Iíd sign up for a voluntary hysterectomy. I mean, Iím certainly not using my uterus. Too bad I canít offload it to someone who might enjoy having a working model Ė like a kidney donation.

I have a confession to make. I did not shower yesterday. Iím not gross or smelly or anything, but I do feel a bit funky. Like I might have a thin layer of exuded oil all over me. The same feeling you have when you travel to far away countries on crowded planes and have to cross date lines with out showering. When I got home from the range last night I ate the cashew tofu that I had picked up from my local Thai joint (sadly, sans rice) and then promptly went into a PMS induced food coma and fell asleep on the couch while Steve watched the Cubs/Diamondbacks game. He knows better than to try to get me up and into bed Ė I usually growl at first and then if continually prodded I might bite - so he just left me there. I woke up about 11:45 and felt too groggy to shower so I just washed my face and brushed my teeth. I had all the best intentions of showering this morning but it just didnít happen. The extra 20 minutes of sleep was more valuable to me than the squeaky-clean feeling. The only thing that really shows it is my hair. Being blonde, stick straight and fine textured, even the slightest extra bit of oil makes it clump together into chunks that fall, nay - slide, out of my ponytail. So unattractive. Iím sure that after I run tonight Iíll just be a picture of beauty with my red cheeks, sweaty brow, and greasy clumpy hair. If youíre driving through the swanky parts of Wilmette tonight keep an eye out for me.

4:11 p.m. - 2004-04-28


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