...can't ... breathe...

I've eaten so much, and drunk so much water, that I am having severe difficulty breathing... My personal trainer just phoned me and told me to go to Cold Rock and purchase a take home tub of cookies and cream ice cream, mixed with turkish delight, and topped with hot chocolate fudge sauce. What she doesn't know is that I don't think I'm even capable of moving from the sofa, let alone getting changed out of my PJ's, getting into the car, and walking from the car to the shop and back again - and then there's the repeated lifting of spoon to mouth... nope. It's too much.

Oh... I just burped and I think some water might have come back up my throat. That's not pleasant.

As I sit and stare at the litre bottle of Evian waiting for me, I wonder if it's going to kill me, or if the slow but steady absorption of the water already consumed will lead ultimately to a slow and painful death, much akin to drowning... will this sofa be my last vessel of comfort? Will my feet ever see the ground again? Is my arse doomed to fuse with the cheap throw rug over my sofa, and will I forever be known as 'The woman who became her sofa, drowned in Evian water, and was eaten by her cat'?

I don't think I can carry on this way. I know I'm supposed to weigh as much as humanly possible for tomorrow morning, but I can't eat anymore - I think I've officially reached the stage of being completely and utterly full. What has shocked me most though, is the fact that my dessert stomach has apparently disappeared - I've been gorging myself on savory items, and yet, my dessert tummy says no. I can only assume that the fight for space between my internal organs reached the point where they had to start consuming each other - savory stomach ate dessert stomach, colon ate ileum, and my liver and kidneys became so cleansed that they just floated out of my arse in the night...