I'm scared. Of tomorrow. Sort of like this. But without the pineapple.
Pineapple is an anti-bloat food. Yes, that fruit stat will be applicable in November.
November at our place means the following:
- Matthew will grow a moustache and magically turn into a lumberjack.
- I will [attempt to] write a novel. Because I finally caved to the NaNoWriMo hype. And because I want to win Canada's $50,000 Giller Prize next year. (Too ambitious?)
- We are taking diet/fitness uber-seriously. Because the post-honeymoon pounds won't take a hint and skedaddle. (That reminds me: I need to bake cookies for a potluck today. AHHH.)
Yes, I'm going to be writing my butt off while literally working my butt off — four times a week, yo* — and depriving myself of cashew binges and full-fat cheese. Sigh.
*Every time Matt says, "Yo," I respond with, "...it's about that time to bring forth the rhythm and the rhyme." Marky Mark forever.
What are your plans for November, friends?