Days 86-87 (bleck!)

So, um, yeah. I tanked at the Italian birthday bash on Wednesday. As in:

• Oh, Mama Mia, tanked.
  
• That’s not amore tanked.
  
• Arrivederci smaller jeans tanked.

Sigh.

The double sigh comes in when I reluctantly confess that I tanked again yesterday. I cruised through breakfast, blazed through lunch and then I received a distressing e-mail in the afternoon that sent me straight to the 50%-off Easter candy aisle at my friendly neighborhood CVS.

I blew off the gym and inhaled fistfuls of malted milk Easter eggs and jelly beans (no fat, do I get brownie points for that??).

All of this binging, and not-so-much binging, has led me to one brain-bending, earth-rockin’ conclusion: the side effects of erratic dieting are the EXACT SAME as early pregnancy!!!!

Early Signs You’ve Got a Bun in the Oven:

• exhaustion that puts your butt in bed before the sun sets
  
• bouts of nausea that make you look up at coworkers (because your head is laying down)
  
• insatiable cravings that have your husband buying you pickles in the wee hours of the night
  
• acne like that of a 13-year-old hormone-crazed girl

Late Signs That I’m a Dieting Extremist:

• exhaustion that has me tucking in somewhere just after Cooper and before 8:30
  
• bouts of nausea that have my coworkers asking, “Um, are you feeling OK?”
  
• insatiable cravings that have me buying a large jar of pickles on my lunch break
  
• acne like that of a 13-year-old hormone-crazed girl

While in my frenzied Easter candy shop-a-thon, I thought, “What the hell?” and tossed in a pregnancy test … just to make sure my theory held water.

It does. I’m not preggars.

I’m just a fatty with no willpower.

YAY!