(You know you make me wanna shout.)

Here’s the part where I write about losing weight again. First, I must establish a few unequivocal truths in this conversation:

1. I do not have an unhealthy view of my body. If anything, I have a super unrealistic view of my body. Like size six view. Which is why I go into shock when I see recent pictures of myself and my sausage legs. Those are not my legs. Those are someone else’s sausage legs. Duh.

2. My husband has the metabolism of some sort of superhero who’s powers have something to do with metabolism. I have the metabolism of the laziest rock on the planet. This is inherently unfair.

3. As 31/32 is the new 17/18, I can’t go out this way. By ‘go out’ I mean give up on being hawt again. We mustn’t give up the dream, must we?

No. We mustn’t. Today I started the Atkins diet. WORST. DIET. EVER. FOR. ME. But this is the nonsense that jumpstarted my husbands fantastical weight loss, so whatever. No pasta, no bread, no wheat crackers or goldfish or almonds or good things that I like to eat. And like any easily distracted monkey learning new tricks, I need rewards to change my bad habits. My reward for finishing the story called The Palace Sweeper, which is sooooo very close to being done, will be a 19th century watercolor painting. My reward for losing some weight will be a trip to Boston.

BOSTON? You ask. Yes. Boston. HEATHER, WE’RE COMING TO YOUR WEDDING. Sorry, that was just for my college friend named Heather who lives in Boston and is getting married at the end of August. This reward is something like offering Charlie a new car for cleaning his room, but that’s ok. I’m not interested in this stupid Atkins diet. I am interested in going to Boston with my skinny husband. So it looks like Tricky Will gave me an offer I couldn’t refuse. Here’s what I ate today:

two hardboiled eggs, which suck when not accompanied by a bread of some sort

tuna fish salad wrapped in spinach, also not nearly as good as tuna fish salad atop a cracker of some sort

cottage cheese, which oh crap, turns out is not allowed during the first two weeks of Atkins. My bad.

beef jerky, which is not nearly as good as chocolate jerky or beef Dr. Pepper

And then we’re having steaks for dinner. So that’s cool. I guess. I refuse to become the dieting blogger, except that I might, since I can’t get my mind off my diet at the moment. So don’t be surprised if that’s all you get from me for the next two weeks. And I won’t be surprised if you stop reading.

Here’s the part where I go walk around my neighborhood three times. Because three times equals a mile. Yay me.