It's that time of year where we begin to change over the wardrobe.
My work attire has shifted from shorts to pants.
And we all know what that means ...right?
It means weese freaks out because half her pants don't fit.
(someone should probably send my patient wife a bottle of red)
I have tried to lose these very same pounds before.
These pounds love me, they are clinging to me tightly.
But I have resolve and no fear of trying again... and again.
(make that two bottles of red for my understanding wife).
And so I started a new diet yesterday.
It's rather regimented, which is good for weese, weese likes regiment.
Oddly this diet includes no beer.
I will let you know how it goes. Which basically means- if I start losing weight you can be sure I'll be blogging about it, and if I don't... well, that will be the end of that then, huh.
Treading trodden trails for a long, long time.
Dave Matthews Band
7 comments:
The obvious solution is to stop wearing pants.
Skirts hide much, you know. Of course I can't quite picture you in a skirt.... Well, I can, but it makes me giggle, you're don't seem to be the skirt type. :D
Seriously, check out The Daily Plate, it's good for tracking food and exercise.
I'll send her the two bottles I shouldn't drink because I'm on the 'sort of' diet. I sort of diet and I sort of don't. ~eb
No beer? Somebody send Mrs Weese some xanax.
Never give up the beer. I repeat. Never give up the beer! Switch to Guinness, it's beer that counts as a nutritional suppliment:) When none of my pants fit anymore I got a job where I get to wear scrubs all day. Nothing beats a draw-string waist to help you hide those pounds stalking you.
It's a DAMN GOOD THING I like your cheeky monkey wife. I'd send her two bottles of her favorite reds but I think, somehow, someway, she deserves to have you drive her crazy.
~e_ _ _abeth
yes... xanax ...please.
include valium if you have 'em.
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