Dear Diary,
Oh how quickly things change. Monday I was up on the tables. Tuesday I was down. Tuesday I was down on the scale. Today I'm up. Ah, the vicissitudes of life. Yesterday the scale liked me. Today shes just some funky b***h that won't leave my room. Kinda like you. Speaking of funky b***hes that won't leave my room. 250 is here. She came back this morning with a vengeance. She's probably mad that I had a ridiculous wagyu ribeye and lobster, along with crazy hors d'oeuvres and drinks last night. It was worth it to make her come out of hiding so I could get rid of her one last time. It was a good night. And I was great during the day. Egg white omelet and fruit for breakfast. Fruit for lunch. I ate right but too much. I'll fix it today. I'm heading to the spa. Nope. You can't come. What am I supposed to do with you while I'm getting massaged? What about the pedicure? I won't even be able to hold you during the manicure. Maybe we can hangout while I spend some time in the gym. Maybe by time we make it back to the room, that b***h will be gone. Then maybe you could take a walk too. I'd like to spend some quality time with my trail mix.
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