Hold the Fries, Heathen

Man, am I wiped out. A family crisis developed, and my dad invited me to lunch to discuss it, and I ate a cheeseburger and a tiny container of mysterious “veggie slaw.” I feel like I ate a bowling bag full of greased marbles.

Two months ago, I would have barely noticed a meal this small. It’s amazing how I’ve changed. I had a generous breakfast today, because I was running behind on calories, but it wasn’t huge. Other than that, I’ve had two tiny bowls of All-Bran and part of a Lindt bar. I don’t think I could eat another thing all day.

My dad refuses to believe it’s an answer to prayer. He says fasting shrunk my stomach. I can’t agree. I’ve fasted before, and it never affected my appetite in the days that followed. I think if two cherubs flew in bearing a cake decorated with the message, “Way to go. Love, J.C.”, he would still insist there was an earthly explanation.

I feel almost sick. I could not be happier.

The 33-waist pants in the closet are calling to me. I still remember the days when I thought of them as my fat pants. Right now, I’d be thrilled if I could get into them with a crowbar. And I’m not that far off.

I’ve achieved absolutely nothing today. Started working on the book. Then I had to go with my sister so she could have her head shaved. Then family crisis. Then lunch.

If you want to start taking a woman’s cancer seriously, watch somebody shave her head. It’s very disturbing. It drives the truth home in a big way. I don’t think it would mean as much if it were a man. Men shave their heads for all sorts of reasons. They lose bets. They want to make it harder for the cops to identify them. They fall asleep drunk and fall prey to their so-called friends. When a woman shaves her head, you know something is up.

Hope this day’s supply of drama has run dry.