Ready. Set. Go!!!
That is how I feel I could start out with this. Fork in my right hand. Knife in my left hand. Cake sitting before me all glorious smelling and sweet chocolate wonderfulness.
I can’t take eating sticks, bark, dirt, and grass any longer. I am going to my doctor tomorrow to BEG for insulin. I am hungry. It’s the holidays. I want some freakin’ eggnog and cake and cookies and pie and potatoes and a pumpkin spice latte or a white chocolate peppermint mocha latte. I am LOSING it folks!!
I won’t make it. Not without lying about my glucose numbers. Truthfully, I’ve already fudged on a few. Glucose meter says 135, I write down 119.
I’m sick of it.
Sooo sick of it.
Gimme cake. Gimme gimme gimme gimme gimme some freakin’ cake!!
If the cake appears to be topped
with pieces of curled up bark
then it’s ok to eat it.
No, really, it is.
Now. Gimme cake!!