I've just deleted everything that I've typed.
It was the Only Decent & Adult thing to do.
But In case you were wondering, I was talking about My Arms.
Forget them, I say to Myself.
Its not as if I've spent my entire life enthusiastically working on my backhand, have I?
And just because I now spend a large chunk of the week in Downward Facing Dog doesn't mean that I've got the right to think that they're going to Magically Transform into Serena Williams's Arms, do I ?
Is Serena Williams a good choice for Arm Lust, I wonder? Perhaps her arms are like George Foreman's? I don't know. I must look.
But what I really wanted to say was:
Look at the Perfectly Formed Scrumptious & Magical Little Iced Cake with Dorothy on top which was made by Monniker who is next to me. Me & My Guests merrily shovelled it in during 'Intermission' last night at my 'Mad Men Series 3 Sunday Nite Dinner' last nite.
As I was shovelling, I described the cake as 'Restaurant Quality' which Aunt Jenny said was an insult.
I'm Not a Prisoner to Obsessive Thoughts about Cakes, am I?
I just won't eat a thing tomorrow. That's what I'll do.
Tomorrow is shown above. I deliberately wore figure hugging clothing to prove that I didn't really believe that I could gain massive kilos overnight just because I ate a slice of cake.
And to prove a point, I brought the leftovers to school & ate another slice at recess. I made everyone else have a slice too.
Even though it Looked Little, The Cake, all white & creamy & buttery fed all up Ten People.
And there was still more left. Kind of a Loaves & Fishes scenario really.
And I ate lunch which was half of Trixie's Chicken Stir Fry with rice. And I had dinner too which was last nite's leftover chicken.
Finally therapy is beginning to pay off.