Party's over- I'm on a diet!

The name of the game today is accountability. I'm taking responsibility for something has gotten utterly out of control, in an effort to make ammends and change my ways. It's official, I am a fat ass. Before this morning, I hadn't been to the gym in 2 months. I have been gluttonous and unapologetic in my eating and, I'm not going to lie, it was fun while it lasted.

So much fun in fact, that I ignored that my previously 'fat' jeans have become my 'skinny' jeans, my previously 'skinny' jeans have become a denim version of leg warmers that only go so far as my knees and have begun mocking me from the dusty part of the closet that never sees the light of day, and my elastic banded pants have become my evil accomplices and enablers.

If the standard donuts, ice cream and french fries screaming my name weren't enough enticement, certainly that chocolate chip cheesecake ball that my 100lb bitch sister set in front of my face yesterday, didn't stand a chance! I also learned that the bad economy makes you fat and obesity may spread like the common cold, buying my disorder some more time and bargaining power. Suffice it to say, I devoured that cheesecake ball, that we understandably deem, "the crack ball", like an addict on their last binge. Today was the day.

I'm done feeling the guilt of watching The Half Ton Man documentary while licking the chocolate frosting off of a paper plate and then, in all my paranoid glory, looking around the empty room and out the windows to make sure no one saw that. I'm done bad mouthing thin people just because I am totally jealous, lazy and have the will power of Charlie Sheen at the Playboy Mansion.

My long overdue trip to the gym today, followed by my incessant gulping of water and consequent trips to the bathroom are all laced with good intentions of fitting back into my clothes and being able to show more than just my forehead and eyes in a picture.