My fat took the letter well, and seems to be going away quietly. At least according to the YMCA scale, which reveals that there’s five pounds less of me.
Yay.
The miracle of eating heathfully and exercising more. What a novel concept!
Since I began my exercise class extravaganza, I’ve also invested in more appropriate outfits to replace my T-shirts and sweats.
My taste runs more along the lines of this:
Rebecca Romijn, appropriately clothed
rather than this:
Kim Kardashian. Oh HELL no.
And you will NEVER catch me dressed like this, even if I manage to lose every single ounce of fat:
Jamie Lee Curtis in "Perfect," wearing an outfit looking not-so-perfect in the glow of 2010
Struggling through the torture of “Awesome Abs” today also helped tamp down a minor disappointment: McSweeney’s* did not like my open letter as much as my friends did.
Oh well. Rejection is nothing new for a writer.
Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.~Samuel Beckett
I discovered that rejections are not altogether a bad thing. They teach a writer to rely on his own judgment and to say in his heart of hearts, ‘To hell with you.’ ~Saul Bellow
* A friend suggested I submit it for their “Open letters to people or entities who are unlikely to respond” section.
Observe and report 
Does this mean no more puffs? I saw a big bag at Kroger last night but I was afraid to get it to send – don’t want your fat to think it’s invited back…..
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My puff intake is now limited. Once in a while, only 13 at a time (four Weight Watchers points is all I’ll give up at a time). SIGH.
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