Slimy pile of worm-ridden filth

Oooh, I tell you what, if somebody walked in here right now and gave me a cheese coney and lemon-berry slush from Sonic, I would not turn them down. It's only 9:45 in the morning, and I'm already thinking about lunch. I'm never going to lose the baby weight this way. But I was thinking about it this morning--on average, I've been waking up twice a night, an hour each time, for the past 4 months, and I've somehow managed to adapt to that without falling asleep while working or driving (yay me!). So if I'm craving a cinnamon roll and an Icee, I feel like I owe it to myself to eat them and not feel guilty about it. Of course, I realize this is the precise kind of thinking that could lead to me weighing 300 pounds eventually, but I just don't care anymore. If somebody starts making fun of my size, I'll just pound them with my massive upper arms. It would be akin to being whomped in the head with a 7-pound ham, I kid you not.