[Read with caution] As I was getting dressed a few minutes ago (I decided to go to the dog show today — the poodles start at 10:30a) I was thinking about my most recent trip to the bathroom. It's way better than it was a week ago, but still not better.
There was an unidentified foreign object in my toilet this morning. It didn't look like a product of anything I've eaten, so I tried to tell myself it was just toilet paper from an early morning visit. But when I flushed, it wasn't TP. And yes, I was looking that closely. TMI?
Anyway, my body is definitely trying to tell me something. I'm figuring it's tired of being fat and is forcing me to acknowledge what I look like and do something about it.
When I was at the height of my anger period, I would have terrible dreams about gagging on this awful stuff I was trying to pull from my mouth. Then there was an incident that threw me over the top and I started involuntarily vomiting. That was the flashing neon sign for me and a true indictor that I could never be bulimic.
I hate my pictures from Stacy's wedding. Yes, I know I am overweight, but omigod my boobs are huge. It looks awful.
I have not acted on the Master Cleanse (except for going to Whole Foods and pricing all the ingredients). I just worry that it requires more commitment than I feel like giving, but it is not off the potential list of things to do.