Last Sunday I got this sudden urge to buy a donut. I LOVE donuts, like Homer Simpson love them, so I very rarely buy one, too much temptation to be had. So this was a serious sugar surge. I was all excited and took it home and was like oooh I'll save it for lunch and eat it with coffee. Well, Max was freakin' out pretty bad so lunch never happened. Then I tried eating it for breakfast but between dog walking, baby caring, cooking, working out, kitchen cleaning, and life it has now been almost a week since I brought the doughnut home. This sad little chocolate deliciousness has quietly died, uneaten, in my breadbox without even so much as a lick to demolish the perfect little icing top. I knew I should have frozen it. *sigh*
Once upon a time my Sunday would have gone something like this. Wake up at noon, make time for a donut (and some starbucks...and then maybe a bloody mary and mimosa....possibly some eggs and chili at the diner), sloth around doing absolutely nothing, then slink into a size 4 itty bitty sequin something and go out all night with friends. WTF?!?! How is it possible to be sleeping less, eating less, working harder, never drinking, being happier, but still weighing 25 pounds more than this time last year? And don't suggest that it's part of getting older because that freaks me out about turning 30 in a few years.
I'm pretty sure I need a trainer...and a nutritionist... and a nanny...maybe a dog walker. Wait, a sec.....now I know how all those celebrity moms look so good! Unfair! I need to find a way to befriend one of them.
