I think the fates read my last post and took pity on me.
That's a good thing since I was starting to think self-destructive thoughts already. I don't think I would have acted on them, but they were there. That fat chick in me is not going down without a fight. Whispering in my ear that I am a pig and need to stop eating so much, and then following it up with the conflicting message that I'm too weak to succeed anyway so I should just throw in the towel and go get a cookie. Or a box of cookies. Well, I'll show her. She's been exceedingly quiet this morning. She hasn't felt so smug since I stepped on the scale at eight a.m.