Oh my God! (Meant to sound like the girl from Clueless). I need to give you a good idea of my exact mood for this post to be meaningful.
I have started the diet, also known as Atkins, also known as: hell, torture, and I am pretty sure the exact opposite of the big man upstairs.
Day 1, not so bad, felt pretty upbeat and sure of myself. Hey, this is a woman who can conquer anything! I have quit smoking, quit biting my nails, and given up soda all in the past year. I am queen of my own body. Fast forward.........................................Day 3, today is the worst day of my life, I am dying. I am laying around in a state of despair, I swear I have begun to hallucinate. I imagine the doorbell ringing and it is none other than the Pillsbury Doughboy with a huge congratulations sign and a years supply of biscuits! My lucky day! Oh, reality again, hungry, o.k., let's have another egg or perhaps some more vienna sausages. Yummy! Fast forward 5 minutes............Hungry?, o.k., lets have some sardines. Yummy!
Tonight as I end my first day of looking at the pure and bitter truth that I am truly addicted, I think of everyone else here and no longer feel alone, except for the Doughboy, who is now offering me a butter crescent which he absolutely knows I cannot have, what a cruel thing to do. Anyways, if I make it to day 4 and am alive and kicking I will tell more about myself, until then I am off to bed with a hungry stomach, a raging headache, and a never ending supply of eggs and bacon awaiting my return to the kitchen better known as "The former place where I was trapped in my sugar, bread, cookie, cake bliss and perfectly happy there, thank you!".