I'm Sofa King Hungry.

A little backstory - Last November, a couple things happened.

1) I went batshit crazy, and had panic attacks that made me want to plow my car head-on into wrong-way traffic on 95.

2) i WEnt ON aNTIdEPrESsANtS to even out the Crazy, and control the panic attacks. (They were pretty bad. So bad, a couple times I almost ripped my diplomas off the wall, quit my job, and ran screaming, Margot Kidder-style, into the distance.)

3) My secretary got pregnant.

4) I realized I didn't feel like dating ANYONE because I couldn't stand NEW PEOPLE.

All of these items resulted in me eating my feelings, and eating like my secretary. And basically eating. All the time. Eating, eating, drinking, drinking. Drinking. It was almost like a challenge - how fat can I get?

Well, almost 40 pounds fatter, that's how fat. With my new moon-face, I also decided, "Hey - keeping my current spiky-messy hairdo will make my face look fatter! I'm gonna grow out mah hurr!" And grow it out I did. I haven't had a haircut since April, or May. But I think April. My hair's long. (And I think that plan backfired, because now I just look fat n' messy. Even though I was going for that "greasy-slicked-back-Wall-Street" look.

And ugh. All of these things are uncomfortable. So, this summer, I decided that when the weather started to break, but in time for my 10-year High School Reunion, I would go on a "You're Such a Fatty Pig, Fatso" diet.

I'm trying to get down to the 140s by Thanksgiving. I think I can actually do it... (I drop weight pretty quickly) I won't have lost ALL the weight, but if I can just get down to like 147 that's only 23 pounds off from where I am now... I'll look KICK-ASS, and I can roll up to that reunion and be all like "Oh, me? Oh, I'm a lawyer in Miami... drive a Benz... bought a kick-ass loft on Southbeach with a water view... you know, just doin' my thing... Well THANK YOU! You look... great too!"

So... last weekend, the South Beach Diet began, because I'm also really successful on it. When I get down to around 150, I'll cut my hair.

So far, so good. I started it last Sunday, and have already dropped four pounds. Not too shabby at all, IMHO (still it's less than I used to drop but I'm not as young as I used to be.)

BUT I AM SO HUNGRY.

ALL THE TIME.

I've gone on this diet in the past, and it was never this hard (probably because I haven't been this fat since Freshman year in College when my diet consisted of: Beer, Tequila, Long Island Iced Teas, Pizza Hut, Chicken Strips, French Fries, Gyros, Sal's Pizza etc.) because I am 1) STARVING and 2) find myself craving things I haven't wanted in YEARS. Like Keebler Marshmallow Pinwheels. Do they even MAKE those anymore?!

Know what set off the Marshmallow Pinwheels craving? Driving past a Keebler truck today. Yeah. I saw a Keebler Truck, and suddenly needed a cookie I haven't had in years.

Then I was behind a McDonald's truck, and I would have stabbed someone for a Sausage McBiscuit with Egg.

Oh god, and thinking about these things suddenly makes me want a Snackwells Devil's Food Cake Cookie. (Do they even make THOSE anymore?)

Next thing you know, I'll be craving a bowl of Quisp or Super Golden Crisp.

So, that's where I am. Successfully eating fucking chicken and romaine salads and hamburgers without buns, but STARVING TO DEATH.

Meh.

I hate paying the piper.

I could get used to this.

I have a Deposition Training Seminar today, tomorrow and Saturday. The Saturday class I could do without, but whatever -- it's "Billable" hours or at least hours to make my October, which started strong, but then wherein I burned out, look more respectable...

I digress. Yesterday, when I left work, I thought the class started today at 8:30 a.m.

BOY WAS I WRONG! It starts at 1 p.m.! I effectively got a half day off work! And you know what? Waking up when I want to (8:40 - still respectable) doing chores (folding laundry, making breakfast) and getting a jump on the day that starts at 1... is sort of AWESOME.

I wonder what kind of job I could have where I worked from 1-6 p.m. and still made the money I make...? (Which, believe me, still isn't enough.)

Hmmm. Drug Dealing? (I'd get my bar license revoked, and I don't think I'd do well in Jail.); Pimping? (I might be okay at that.) Whoring? (Eh. Too much time in the gym...) Smuggling Cubans into the Country? (Again - Jail. And the possibility of being shot by the Coast Guard.) When we were little, my friend Laura wanted to work in a Peanutbutter Factory. She's now the general manager of a restaurant in Napa, but Peanutbutter factory could still be a good route for me...

On a related note, my pal is fingering me for something having to do with Heeb Magazine. It's all very cryptic right now, but I'm interested to know what she's hatching in her sleeve. (Eeesh. That's a creepy visual - I messed up that idiom, that's fer darn sure!)