Mood: Tentatively psyched

I am going to post regularly, I swear. Swear to agnostics everywhere. So I have embarked on a mission. The mission is to gain control of my wayward earth vessel, my body. I am a man of considerable girth. I always will be a big man but I my quality of life has suffered for far too long. So I on my vacation last week I gathered a team of health professionals to help. Well I met with my doctor last week. Today I met with my nutrionist or dietician. So I'm at the hospital meeting her at a fountain near some elevators just reading the USAToday and I hear, "Mister Smith?" I look up and she's a knockout. By knockout I don't mean a supermodel, I mean my-kind-of-girl attractiveness. I usually pick men for my health providers not that I think women aren't competent but I don't feel I can be completely candid with them. Must be the southerner in me or male bias, argghh. It just makes me uncomfortable and puts me at unease. That said, she was more than fine and we came up with a decent plan. Find a substitute for soft drinks and no french fries. A order of fries is equal in calories to three baked potatoes with BUTTER. So I got some Splenda, a calorie free sweetner and put it in some tea. Not bad. Sticking to our plan though. Small significant changes that I can keep for a lifetime.

Writing wise I banged out a short story last week, that I believe is a keeper. I am proud of the work that went into it and the actual story itself. It's called Apples to Apples, We All Fall Down.