My mom is coming to visit on Friday. In other words, I have three days to lose 20 lbs. I’m thinking about perhaps just cutting an arm off. You see when I was home for Christmas, my mother being the darling bitch that she is, informed me that I was becoming a “big” girl. Now first of all, let me throw out a little background info. Hell, for all you know, I could weigh 1,000 lbs and have eaten Richard Simmons for lunch– in which case, “big” might be an appropriate choice of words. I am (at present), however, 5’7” and 130 lbs. Alright, I could drop a few of those 130lbs, but it’s really just not something I’m feeling right now. Anyway, I digress…

So yeah, on Friday, Mom’s coming to visit which really wouldn’t be so much of a problem except for the fact that to keep her off my back for the last two months, I kind of painted a picture of myself in which I was pursuing a training routine similar to that of an Olympic athlete. Well, I just couldn’t bear hearing her voice on the phone and have her ask me at every wrinkle of a plastic bag or clink of a fork if I was eating. And of course, invariably, I would be eating, so then she’d ask me something in that “sounding nice but really being a bitch” tone, something along the lines of “Oh are you sure you should be eating at this time of the night?” or “So sweetie, how’s the diet going?” And then well, feeling wrought with guilt and feeling half inclined to go into the bathroom and stick my finger down my throat, I instead directed the conversation towards my training routine.

Depending on my level of guilt, this routine involved either my running ten miles a day in twenty minutes or twenty miles a day in ten minutes. My diet consisted of something which I call the Apple/ Citrus diet. This diet evolved one day during a phone conversation with mom. She asked me what I was having for dinner, and well, I saw an opportunity…

“An orange and an apple. It’s this new diet where all you eat is one orange and one apple each day. Yeah I’m hoping to lose 30 lbs! (sarcasm, sarcasm, SARCASM).”

So I was basically just waiting for the red flags to go up. Maybe a hmmmm, perhaps I should get my daughter to a clinic or ummm, maybe I should schedule an intervention, I wonder what the family shrink is doing next week… But instead all I got was: “Oh yeah Sweetie? That sounds great! Perhaps if it works for you, I’ll try it.” Yep, mom wanted to know where she could get a piece of it.

That said, I’m pretty sure my mom wants me dead…