So, as some of you may know, and many of you may not, I've been on a really intense diet. I don't talk about it much on here because I talk about it so much in real life, I'm sort of sick of hearing myself talk about it. Also, that would require me to update more regularly, and frankly I'm far too busy sitting on my couch with my Snuggie drinking coffee for that.
Which is to say that I'm beginning to wonder if my Snuggie has some sort of laziness drug in its cheap fleece, because seriously, the thought of using it on a cold morning makes me so happy, I can't even tell you. It's a sickness. Like hoarding, only, you know, entirely more passive.
I'm off track. Okay, so, the intense diet...
Can I just say that it makes me a crazy girl? It messes with me. Because I've officially reached the "I'm mad" stage. For those of you unfamiliar with the stages of dieting, they are as follows:
1. Determination - things are peachy, you're starting out and woo-hoo, look at that you lost a pound!
2. Misery - things are chugging along, but crap you only lost a pound.
3. Serenity - which is vaguely the gray area between the first two stages, but rarely ever happens between them. You are okay with losing a pound.
4. Self-Righteousness - in which all dieting related things, eating, not eating, exercise make you an insufferable martyr, especially as you did not lose a pound this week.
5. Mad - Everything about this diet makes me mad and I will continue to be mad and stay mad because I am sick to death of being on a diet and I would feel better, damn you, if I just lost another pound.
So you see, it's emotionally draining. Being in the mad to be on a diet stage makes me crazier then ever. Because as mad as I am that I'm drinking vile protein powder shakes and that I have to let go of the Snuggie and get my ass off the couch, I'm also so stinkin' happy because, that ass I'm getting off the couch is a lot smaller. It is a very bipolar feeling.
So I've decided to take out my frustration by going to hit something, which makes it convienient that the Living Social coupon for Boston today was for a women's boxing classes. Otherwise, someone (probably the next person to eat anywhere within backhand range) was going to get hurt.
By purchasing it I've saved people. Like a superhero. And, bonus, I can now begin to use the phrase, "Today at my foxy boxing class...." And when is that not awesome?