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[early May, ’07]

Salad and I just don’t get along. This morning I’m all chipper and Holly Golightly as I hit the Milton Fruit Center at 8 a.m. in my little orange denim skirt and my white sleeveless tee and sandals (very Miltonish). The scale said I’d lost 5 of those pesky pounds this week – chalk it up to water weight or to eschewing the carbs again – but it’s 80° out and I’m a happy fucking camper. So I pick up a few necessary items – protein and veggies and hit the salad bar for a huge lunch of romaine, balsamic marinated tofu, mushrooms, chick peas, a little feta cheese, some eggplant…eh, you get the picture. I’m psyched. Top it all of with Tahini dressing and lunch is mmmm mmmmm good.

Until I get the hershey squirts. What IS it with me and salad? Honestly, this doesn’t happen with a double quarter pounder at McDonalds and it doesn’t happen with my beloved cheesy tots at Burger King! Try to eat healthy and you wind up hanging out in the loo all afternoon. Good thing I picked up this week’s Star magazine to keep me company. God knows I can’t live without another update on Brangelina. Especially when my ass is on fire!

Maybe it’s the Tahini. What the hell is in that anyway? Lord, give me some meat and potatoes. I don’t want to leave the house and now it’s time to go pick up my son and play Mommy. I’m sure the first thing he’ll point out is the emanating stench from the bathroom. He’s always so tactful. Huh, maybe I better grab the Febreeze first. Or some heavy duty Lysol.

Thanks for joining in. That was refreshing.

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