What I want are PopTarts and Swedish Fish and bar-b-que potato chips.
(By the way...is it just me, or does anybody else go into a tizzy every time a dietCoke commercial comes on?! Good grief, Charlie Brown! I knew I liked the stuff and missed it now that I can't have it, but I actually shed a tear over it last night!)
(I swear it to be true. Really. I do.)
What I'll get, though, will be fruits and veggies, sprouted grain bread, and salmon. And sparkle water that is good for me but tastes of nothing at all.
Don't cry for me Argentina. Eating healthy and having the means to do so are an enormous blessing for which I am incredibly thankful. There will be plenty of time for PopTarts someday, I imagine, but right now I've got a number to reach for the transplant surgeon and I'm going to do it. As of today I am 130 pounds down from my highest weight ever, 60 pounds down in the last year, 20 pounds away from where he wants me and 100 pounds away from where I want to be.
Piece 'o cake.
(Now I want cake.)
OK. Enough. Onward!