Yes, well, after strictly adhering to a diet and exercise program for 15 days now, I am unhappy to report that I gained four pounds.
So this is what I figured out about diet and exercise programs......they don't work unless you skip mixed drinks. Wine seems to be okay.
I had a couple of Captain and Cokes while watching the end of the Packer Season, and then a third one to console myself, and now I can barely button my favorite skirt. My tights are super-tights.
I have a choice here. Be a happy person with toned arms and legs and a protruding mid-section, while drinking as many cocktails as I want, or stick to a glass of wine with dinner and hope by summer I can fit into my swimsuit, since I plan to spend a month at the lake.
Just tell me this. At what age do women stop caring about their figures? I really want to get there. I hope to be an octogenarian who smokes man-like, strong cigarettes, drinks a lot of rum and vodka, drives really fast and eats lobster or steak five nights a week. The other two nights, I'll eat fast food at the casino, where I'll spend my dead husband's social security check. I will swear off doctors and just show up in emergency rooms where I will get Schedule I drugs because I can truly act crazy and pained, or make a doctor feel that way, depending on my mood. I will then abuse those prescriptions regularly.
This sounds good. Maybe I'll just start now.
No. I have a lot of really great clothes I'd like to wear this summer. I'll trade fashion for elderly shenanigans, at least for a little while. But I do make old age sound less horrendous, don't I? Stick with me grasshopper!