I forget...who did I appoint to keep track of my schedule for me? Well whoever you are, YOU ARE FIRED! Why didn't you tell me there was less than five weeks left until my sister's wedding?! You've completely thrown off my plan of attack. Operation Bridesmaid Dress was supposed to be taken up a notch weeks ago. Instead I've been combating my stress levels with oreos, ice cream, and pizza allowing a friendly, yet unwelcome bulge to fester in my abdominal region.
I am not one generally concerned about my figure (made obvious by the quantity of food I consume throughout any given day), but the nice little Russian lady at David's Bridal took my dress in so much that it squeezes the breath out of me and slightly resembles what I might look like in a opaque cling on wrap. I stared nervously into the mirror as she pinned the fabric to fit my dress like a glove. Gloves are made for hands, not tummies Lady! "I cho you!" she kept saying, pulling my dresses taught in every which direction. I'd rather you "cho" less of me. She finished, and the result was that I left thinking that I need to put Operation Bridesmaid Dress in effect ASAP.
I had good intentions, but I also had a shit ton of studying and homework to do, which quickly took precedence. At the time that was ok with me because the wedding was so far off in my mind. Now it seems I've warped ahead to some alternate universe in which my time has twindled to a matter of weeks? Excuse me...but no, that's unacceptable. The only option for me is to upgrade OBD to RED ALERT, which ultimately means less (notice how I say less and not zero, because one can simply not do without) pizza, and more (comparatively speaking this is not much) exercise.
Wish me luck!
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3 comments:
Just recently, I went back on my award-winning-and-yet-unpublished diet, which consists of things that I can pay for on my current salary. Granted, that amounts to a medium Dunkin' Donuts iced coffee in the morning and then a frozen lasagna for lunch every day, but hey, I'm eying the jeans I have in the next size down. I can say, though, that I am carefully weighing options on this one and my make an impromptu stop at Kentucky Fried Chicken tomorrow regardless.
WHatever bridget. I'm sure you'll be hot no matter what. "Oh my gosh, I'm so fat...."
OYE!
Well, when this whore period ends, remind me to have you, kaitlyn, and oman over for some pizza of your choice. My treat. let me know.
~you slut bucket
EDIT: Well, when this whore period ends, remind me to have you, kaitlyn, and oman over for some pizza of your choice. My treat. let me know.
THIS IS POST OBD RED ALERT PERIOD event.
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