Jenny Craig, you #$%*ing bitch.

You always know it's time. Maybe it's the red creases in your skin clearly outlining where your pants and underpants were sitting at the same time you were.

Maybe it's the moment you're lying in bed and you think to yourself, "Did my duvet cover used to be bigger?"

Maybe it's that glimpse you catch of yourself in a store window and you stop and wonder if you gave birth to triplets the same evening you polished off half a bottle of passion fruit liqueur because that would be the only explanation as to how your hips got so large so quickly and why you can't remember anything that happened that night and you're wondering if you left the newborns in the coat check along with your favourite little Esprit sweater and damn you really should call that place to see if you can get your sweater back.

Yeah it's time. I really need to lose some weight.

Like 98.9% of the female species, I've said this before. I've also ran out and done something about it before, with varying degrees of success. The fact that I'm saying it again means my success has always been short-lived...and let's not anybody hold her breath for this time.

I'm hungry already.

My motivation is strong though. I have pants I couldn't even pull up over my elbow right now in my closet. I would like to wear them again before I have to leave instructions in my will to have my skeleton dug up and the pants put on only when it's confirmed my skeleton will fit into clothing sold at Le Chateau.

Even though it's not looking likely, I may have sex again some day. Right now the odds of me meeting somebody are about the same as winning the Nobel Peace Prize (this is a true fact - check with Las Vegas if you don't believe me).


Just in case the Nobel thing falls through and I actually have sex again instead, I thought it would be nice if my fancy lingerie didn't give me muffin top. There's nothing hotter than naked muffin top. At this point, I'd be happy if my flannel PJ pants didn't give me muffin top.


And so it begins. The hunger. The bitching. (Actually the bitching is really just a continuation of my usual state, only now I'm hungry). The deprivation. And did I mention I'm hungry?

Day one, starts now.