I love junk mail subjects. This was one of the little gems in my junk box today. It got me thinking. God help us all.
I'm having a ball busting time getting back on program and I don't have any balls. I think it was Carlos that blogged about a titty twister, maybe that's more appropriate. I want to be full of enthusiasm for my Weight Watcher's program, but like the subject of my junk mail, I'm far from full, I'm flaccid.
I'm the queen of tomorrow, the princess of putting off until later. I had every intention of getting back on program yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that. Ya, so that didn't happen. Will it happen tomorrow? Nope. Pool party you know.
I want my mojo back. I loved it when I was at the top of my game. I'm back in paradise. No evil work food at my fingertips every day. I've got 2 swimming pools here, a small gym, an awesome bike, a safe place to walk. WTF is wrong with my head? Why do I allow myself to go crazy with the food? I dunno. I'm not a shrink.
So, I'm far from flaccid. Actually, I'm all puffed up. I don't wanna be puffy anymore. I need to be a Pixie with a plan.
I shall ponder this.
A wink and a smile
6 years ago