It's just three weeks until the big gay criuse. This means my dietary intake has been reduced to lettuce and dust. Well, and coffee.
In my food deprived state, I have realized how un-prepared I am for this trip. Other than my speedo. Last night, I realized The reservation I made for a rental car for Fort Lauderdale was promptly deleted by me. I had zero information in regaurd to the reservation. Thankfully I had used my credit card points to pay for it, so I called the helpful credit card elves to find it for me. Yay.
I decided to buy one of those "motivational" swimsuits. The type that I'll never really be able to look good wearing, yet I walk by five times a day, as it sits atop my dresser mocking me. "I will let the Caribbean sun see you, Speedo! I will" I just need to eat as if I was Karen Carpenter.
|*swimsuit not representative|
of how Steve will look.
If you need me for the next three weeks, I'll be at the gym. I'll be the one with a trail of empty Slim-Fast cans behind me and a glazed-over pre-cruise lack of carbs pallor.