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Don’t make me eat you.

Well, folks, I did it.  I joined a cult. Sure was nice knowing you all. I’ll be giving away all of my baggage soon!

Kinda.

I joined a weight loss group…One that I shall not post their name to give them any more credit, and well, advertisement but they sound like Plate Archers. (Get it? I’ll wait….C’mon… You totally can hear that spokesperson singing, huh?) (HELL no I’m no giving them any more advertisement.  They took my money, that’s enough stuff I’ve done for them.)

Anyway.  I’ll be 30 next month (30 FOLKS! A BONA FIDE ADULT!), and my ass isn’t getting any smaller, despite all that I’ve done to sit on it. It was time. Hell, it’s past time.  But you know me, I may be late but I’m down to party. Screw it, I’m always late.  (SHUT UP.)

Can I admit something?

It’s not that bad.  I actually kinda like it.  Lets see.  You eat better, you can still eat the normal stuff you’ve been eating, but you make the effort to control yourself. You make an effort to eat better.  Like that’s a bad thing?  Not the last time I heard. I’m starting to feel better, all the way around.   My clothes fit better already, and I haven’t even been on it a week.

But just in general, I feel better. My whole….self?  Gone are the sluggish feelings. Gone is the,”HOLY CRAP I THOUGHT THESE PANTS WERE THE ONES THAT FIT!” feelings. This is something I will be able to stick to, its too easy not to.

SO, you want my baggage I’m giving out?  You can have it.

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