Dear Diary,
I am officially fat again. Huh? Well I don't know if I was ever unfat, but I had made so much progress. Even though I wasn't talking to you and don't get me started on that, it was your fault a**hole, I was keeping track of my weight. In this calendar year I have not weighed less than 230. And I haven't been in the 220's for over a year since the surgery. I wish I could blame it on my thyroid, or lack thereof, but I can't. My numbers are right. Huh? No I'm not talking about my weight. You are still as stupid as you were last year. But I'm not as light. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Relatively speaking. I figured I'd rededicate myself after I saw the scale hit 246.6, but the holidays hit and I did what I do best. Eat. And sit. I got worse. I gotta get better. I need to try to end this year the way I rang it in. No! And for the last time I would never sit in a pool of my own vomit. Not someone else's either. You can be such a f***ing jerk. I need to end this year in the 230's. After all the success I had in 2011, I'd have to say 2012 was a f***ing disaster, and it was all my fault. I wish I could blame it on the Mayans. F*** you and them.
