Day 8:
(On dressing up to see Les Miserables)
How come I'm thinner than I was when I bought this dress, yet it feels tighter than it used to around my waist? Oh, right, because I'm bloated. Stupid fiber!
Day 9:
(On my private dance lesson)
We're doing cha cha today? I don't know if that's a good idea. I'm rockin' a major fiber baby right now and I can't be responsible for what might come out if I shake it too much. Damn fiber!
Day 10:
(On existing)
This morning I weighed myself. Then, an hour and a half later, I pooped and weighed myself again. I pooped a pound!* A whole pound! And yet, I'm so bloated that if I was in a plane and we had to prepare for an emergency water landing, I could use myself as the floatation device. I'm a bloatation device! F*ck you, fiber!
10 down, 18 to go!
*I'm such a delicate flower. It's weird I'm still single.
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