So I’m not feeling so hot.  My throat HURTS. 

I hate to even think it could be the “s” word.

But the good news?  The fam and I will be walking to PoBoy’s tonight for dinner.  HOORAY!!

Can you overdose on Vitamin C?  Just a thought, as I pound my 2nd 11.5 oz can of V8, which claims to provide 140% of your daily allowance of Vitamin C.

So I was walking in to work this morning and my shadow caught my eye.  Instead of having a total Peter Pan moment, I had a Tinkerbell lapse.  My hips are HUGE.  I sat there, in disgust, and realized I have acheived the typical Italian shape: pear.

From the tip of my head to my waist, it’s fine.  Hell, I would feel comfortable in a bikini, if only that much was shown.  But from the belly button down.. WOW.  Saddlebags, my grandmother’s voice echoed in my head. 

I am the italian woman that italian mothers would want for their italian sons.  Not because I’m smart or talented or well-off.. but because I have BIRTHING HIPS.

So, as if I needed more motivation (although I clearly do, because my ass is immune to anything I’ve been doing), I have been jumpstarted into exercising like a crazy person again.  Tonight, I will visit the gym before Book Club. (Y’all will just have to deal with me sweaty.) And this also gets me “trained” for Pinocchio, which is quickly shaping up to be the Sarah-Olympics.

(Speaking of, last night, Kevin and I were doing a scene, and he went to sweep his arm behind me, and something caught it.  Guess what it was?  That’s right: IT WAS MY TABLE OF AN ASS.)

There’s gotta be something at Costco for me.

Know what tickled me plum pink yesterday?  Someone logged in from a hotel room in Mississippi, and the name of the domain provider was IDEALHOS.  Oh, yes, my calling has finally found me.  I am an ideal ho.