It is only day 3.

Not sure if you picked up on it or not, but I am what they call a big gal, a full figured woman, a plus-sized mama, a beautiful face with a bit of a weight problem… a chub. I am stating this out loud to own it… even though I am pretty sure my family is the only readership I have and I have a feeling they have already noticed. I am owning my size because I want to sell it... er get rid of it.

I have decided to give another whack at a diet. This time I am going with South Beach. I have completely ballooned way above anything I have ever seen in the mirror. I hate how my clothes look. I get out of breath putting on my shoes. I am starting to fear social situations. I am out of control and I think that this Floridian Cardiologist may be what I am looking for. After reading the book, I felt like I could actually commit to it. I have tried a bevy of diets and I HATED EVERY MINUTE.

It is day 3 of this diet and I have only hated about 360 minutes of it…

The biggest change for me is to actually eat breakfast. My routine is pretty strict in the morning: snooze button 4 times, shower, feed cats, make-up, dress, hair, brush teeth… NO time for breakfast. I have had to make some changes to accommodate this. Again, it is only the 3rd day, I will have to work on this. By eating breakfast, I eventually should have some much needed a.m. energy… we’ll see.

The other big change is SWEETS especially SWEETS in the form of cookies or cake. I didn’t think I was that much of a cookie aficionado, but as soon as I am told I can’t have them… I WANT THEM. I want to rip into the box that I foolishly ordered a month ago… back when I was a non-dieter. Back when I succumbed to the 9 year old writing with the adorable 9 year old picture on the sign in the break room that simply said, “Would you like to buy Girl Scout Cookies?”

This box (ok, these 4 boxes) are sitting on my desk. They are bought. They are paid for. They are calling my name. “Fatty.” “Oh, Fatty.” “Remember us?”

It is only day 3.