Show opening kicked some butt. A-yep.
I’m on a diet. Don’t panic, Mom–mostly what that means is “no more french fries and soft drinks at every single meal.”Actually I’m trying to avoid fries period, as well as the greasy Cowanburgers that usually ride sidecar (of thedamned!). I don’t honestly think I’m fat, but the fact is that my pants aren’t comfortable anymore, and I misscomfortable pants. I’m the guy who wore sweats for two solid years in middle school. Comfort is a high priority, withme.
Judging by sleep patterns and hair growth, my metabolism is as frighteningly fast as ever, so I can only conclude thatthe sheer amounts of fat and salt I’ve been taking in for the past year or so have left my body no options butlong-term storage. It’s not something I’ve been doing it purposefully–Cowan food is some of the most cardboardlike,vaguely sickening stuff in the world, and the grease and sodium do wonders to hide that. Pretty soon theburgerfriesCodeRed at lunch and dinner got to be a routine.
Now, I still maintain that salt is a necessary part of every diet, and studies show that the only effect pop has ontooth decay is “milk deprivation.” But I want my 33 waist back, so I’m trying to get used to pasta-and-turkey-sandwichwith apple juice as my default food setting.
If nothing else, I’ve finally proved to myself that my body will change shape over time–after cross country left meexactly as muscular as it found me, I had my doubts. Now I guess we’ll see if it takes me a year to change back.
I think this is the most boring thing I’ve ever written. How to spice it up? Oh, yes,
