The good news is despite my sister’s recent hypothyroid diagnosis, what I suspect about my mother’s health and the tendency for thyroid problems to run in families, my tests came back normal. I’m at I think 2.6, which is about as normal as you can get. And, my cholestrol is a hale and hearty 188.

The bad news is I now have no excuse for my sluggishness and slothlike torpor. Clearly, it’s just because I’m a fat, lazy fuck. Fucking shit, now I have no excuse when my personal fitness instructor, the gym-loving M., marches me around town and demands I drop and give him 20.

I love my 10 or extra pounds. I would so hate to see them go.