It's hopeless.

My sister in law is getting married in just over 8 weeks. My other sisters in law and I have joined together to give each other support in trying to lose weight before the wedding. One of them has lost 9 pounds already. She rocks. I've been trying. I really have. I cut down on my sugar consumption. I try to walk more on my treadmill in the mornings to get my metabolism going. I eat a banana for breakfast instead of the donuts Matt brings home. I switched to 1% instead of 2% milk, and have been drinking more water. I watch my portion sizes at dinner time. I feel like I've really been trying. So WHY does the scale say I have GAINED 4 pounds!?

It lies.

Either that or I am dying. I think that there is a little bit of hypochondriac in all of us. My inner hypochondriac is convinced that I have an 8 pound tumor that is getting bigger by the day. That's why I haven't been losing weight. The stupid tumor is saving it for me!

Ya. That's it.

I've developed a huge cancerous tumor that is slowly killing me. I'm convinced it's on my ovary. I'll probably start planning my funeral. I haven't mentioned my inner turmoil to my hubby. I just told him I think I have a cyst. He'd tell me I was crazy if he knew the truth. I should tell him. So he can start cherishing every moment with me, since I will be gone in a year. That's how much time I have decided that I have. So I am going to throw the tv out the window! And cancel the internet! So I am not distracted and can spend all my time with my kids! We'll go to the beach, and to Disneyland, and go camping, and take long walks together. And we'll stay up late and stare at the stars, and name them one by one.

I guess I should go to the doctor to find out how much time I really have left. I made an appointment for next week with the 'girlie' doctor. So she can tell me I'm dying. Feel free to start sending your condolences now.