Well, James has high cholesterol and some other fiddly blood issues, so the doctor has recommended a handful of pills daily and…The South Beach Diet.

I don’t know crap about this diet, except that their frozen dinners are pretty lousy, but that’s not really a strike against them, since many frozen dinners taste like soggy cardboard. So I gotta go get a book on it.

James and I have never attempted to stick to a diet before, so we’ll see if it’s something we can actually do–I figure I’ll join up in solidarity.* I am deeply suspicious of all diets, particularly anything that involves the word “carb” but our doctor has yet to steer us wrong, so we’ll give it a whirl. The worst that could happen is that our blood will become acidic and riddled with ketones and plagues of locusts will devour our kidneys and manticores and chickens will emerge from our festering bowels, and hey, at least that’ll be fairly entertaining to watch, right?

*By which I mean that the notion of going on a diet is less worrisome than eating my own cooking.

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