I've been dedicated to attending the gym and to not vomiting at the sight of my running shoes. I have been taking a daily multivitamin which turns the 5 liters of water I rent from the good people at Dasani a vibrant and healthy green colour. With Husband's support I am eating more like a cave person and less like Buddy the Elf. I have even given up cream in my coffee. I've trimmed, buffed, polished and agreed to something with wax that should be outlawed in every province.
And despite all this and my insistence that I am doing it all for Future Tam and not for any body image related reasons which have nothing to do with the fact that Husband's work Christmas party is tomorrow...
... I bought a pair of Spanx yesterday.
If I'm going to fake delight at being in room filled with incredibly fit people who wouldn't know cellulite if it sat down and ate their dinner; if I am to lie about my hair colour, height, the length of my eyelashes and the colour of my fingernails and if I have to do it sober because Husband assures me that paleolithic people did not drink vodka water... then I am going to do whatever it takes to shimmy into the incredibly whore-y dress I bought for this very occasion.
More to follow on a.) How I was able to get into the Spanx without a helper-monkey and b.) if I can find a Paleo-friendly shooter. I suspect there has to be one out there, probably with rocks in it. (Ba dum-bump)
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