I might be on CNN soon.

MWHAHAHAHAHAAAA......

There has to be a better reason for my behavior this week. I blame the rain. Because if this is not something else's fault then that will mean that I am famished JUST BECAUSE I AM A BOTTOMLESS PIT and bloated JUST BECAUSE I AM FAT and irritable JUST BECAUSE IT IS MY PERSONALITY.

And if all of that is the case, then I am going to become a dictator and find a country to rule.

It is just so hard with this weather. It makes me feel like sleeping in, nesting and hibernating. Add that to a desk job, and a social life that requires I eat copious amounts of Mexican food simply to keep my friends around and it becomes a constant challenge to eat healthy. And you know what - portion control sucks. It is NOT fun. I like fun. So as a rule, I generally don't exercise portion control. It is against my values. 

That little bee makes me so happy.

For example - today I went to Target and bought myself a family size box of honey nut cheerios. Family size = fun. I opened the box in the car, then sat them on the floor by my desk - after I already ate lunch - to ensure I had easy access to shovel handfuls into my unsatisfied mouth in between emails to my clients who subsequently, are driving me nuts. 


After closing the cereal box I end up goggling Master Cleanses - the idea of which further makes me want to jump a cliff. This is just not healthy. 


The problem is my workout routine was hijacked not only by the rain. First I pull a monster muscle in my back that takes me out of spin for weeks, and now my favorite sculpt instructor has moved to Denver. Rude.

While I am so happy we are far from drought and I have a social life - including great restaurants and company - my pants feel tight. And that makes me want to cry. To my friends. So I suggest we grab a bite after work and WHOP there I am eating my feelings. It's a vicious cycle really. If you give a mouse a cookie... hmm... a cookie. That sounds good.

What Would Jillian (Michaels) Do? I am not sure. Maybe she can be my personal trainer when I become a dictator.

I. Need. Sunshine.

Mister sun, sun, mister golden sun - get your butt out here or I fear mine will never be able to see the light of day again. 

Just thought I would share in case you saw me on the news going postal and creating my own gesture to insinuate fear across leaders everywhere. (Potentially wearing a shirt that reads, "Cheese is my religion.")