I'm just going to say this. I would kill for a quesadilla. Fucking Kill. Maybe not a human, but a spider, definitely. This mood + lack of weight loss = that time of the month. Wonderful.
So I'm doing my best to ignore the scale, which is about a half a pound from being run over by my car. And trying to combat my moodiness, which is probably going to scare John and the dogs into hiding.
But alas, I'm a bloated bitch at the moment, and feel completely helpless.
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