Dear Diary,
I was planning on telling you about how I hopped on the exercise bike and road for 25 miles last night while watching The Sixth Sense. Then I was gonna complain about not losing much weight. I was gonna tell a joke and say that you'd get it later and then tie it back to something else saying I better get my weight loss later for the work I did, but not too much later or I'd be pissed. I was gonna do all of that. Then I went to wash my hands this morning and my wedding band fell off in the sink as I was drying my hands. Wow. When I got this thing nearly 6 years ago, it fit almost perfect. I was thinking about losing weight then and I was saying that I'd have to get it cut down. Time passed, my weight increased and the ring only got tighter. I was discouraged by the thought that I'd have to get it stretched because I could no longer fit it without lubing up the finger. Even when I got it on, there was no guarantee I'd get it off. And I had to take it off at night because there was a huge chance that I'd swell up overnight and it would be stuck forever. I'm pretty sure it had nothing to do with the ice cream I'd eat in the middle of the night while sitting in front of the boob tube. This s**t has me floored. Oh that reminds me. I was supposed to curse you out too. I don't have it in me today. I'm just a kinda chubby ball of happiness today. If I keep this up, which I will, I'm gonna finally get this ring cut down. While I'm at it I need to take in some of my slacks. I'm starting to look sloppy with all of this extra material in my waist line. Catch you later b***h!
PS. Sorry, couldn't help it. Plus that's the reality of it. When did you get those legs anyway? You some kinda coffee table book?
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