Friday, December 12, 2008
I just want to say that it isn't funny. I'm not laughing. Why is it that as I near 30 my metabolism has decided to slow down like a party girl on GHB? I used to dance in the crowd, but now I'm slumped over a chair in the dark corner of the VIP room, or worse, on the floor of the bathroom stall. I eat the same. I workout the same. But for some ungodly reason I'm expanding in all directions. I am the Big Bang Theory. So what do I do? Fight? But how? Diet pills, more lemonade and cayenne, Spin classes two times a day, give up everything that means anything to me - dark chocolate, goat cheese, Santa Fe garden burgers from Astroburger? Even my splurges are healthy, so what gives? Am I doomed to never wear my skinny jeans again? Does it only get worse from here or can I pull a Dylan Thomas and "rage, rage against the dying of the light"? I suppose I could get rich and hire a personal nutritionist and trainer. Yeah, that sounds like a good plan. Or I could get really poor and not have enough food to eat. Nah, no fun. I'd probably end up eating one of the cats, which would be truly terrible. Ok, so until I get rich, rage it is. Rage Against the Metabolism... Does anyone know of a good fasting tea?