Today Allen displayed the quintessential example of what I call “male-pattern brain damage.” Can you believe that he absurdly said, “You’re doing so well on your diet, I don’t think you need to do your checklist anymore”? Right, Allen. When I use it, I lose it. Quitting my checklist would be like a diabetic telling his doctor, “I take my insulin shot every day, and my diabetes is under control. These shots work so well, and I’m feeling so good, I think I’ll quit taking them!”
Unbelievable! “You’re doing so well, I don’t think you need to do your checklist anymore”! And that from a man who’s lived with me for nineteen years. Yes, nineteen long, fat years. (Heavy on the fat!) But it is Rosemary who has carried this spare tire for eighteen of those nineteen years. Rosemary who knows the hell of a blubbery, bulgy, bouncy body. And it’s Rosemary who must be ever wary, ever cautious, ever repeating, “Hello, I’m Rosemary. I’m a foodaholic.” So, Allen, you might forget, but I will chant it all day if necessary for me to remember: “Use it and lose it. Use it and lose it. I will yet walk this earth a skinny woman!”