Love, hate, love

Dear Medifast,

I didn't need my alarm clock this morning. I was having a lovely dream about shirtless werewolves when I was rudely interrupted by my growling stomach. Way to rip me from my happy Twilight place, Medi. My disappointment didn't last long as my thoughts quickly shifted from Jacob Black to the "FEED ME" demands of my tummy. As I looked to the prospect of more chalky shakes and bitter oatmeal today, I decided that I hate you, Medifast. I mean, I really hate you.

As I stumbled to the bathroom, I paid a visit to the evil metal box, which has become a morning tradition. I blinked a few times to be sure the 200 I was seeing was real. Then, I gasped and I think I heard the evil metal box gasp with me. That's -FIVE pounds in just THREE days. Holy heck! I love you Medifast. I really, really do.

While I am loving you, let's talk about yesterday. I tried the eggs. They looked unappetizing, as most of your food does, but they tasted fine. They tasted like eggs. Would I eat them if I were not on this plan? No, I'd crack open a real egg and cook it in a pan, instead of ripping open a package, adding water and microwaving. I give them 3 stars though.

Now, I have a confession to make, Medi. I am scared to try the other foods you sent me. I already know that the chicken and rice soup is tolerable. The shakes that I have tried so far (strawberry, vanilla, dutch chocolate) were palatable, in fact I know I might even aquire a taste for them. The eggs were fine. Can't I just stick to these things? I don't want another peach oatmeal, Medi. I don't think my taste buds can stand it. I am scared, Medi! I am scared to try any of these new things!

I know that I must be brave. My system is demanding nourishment and the sugar free Popsicle that I just ate didn't satisfy the grumbling in my stomach. I am going to put on my big girl panties and make myself some of your Maryland crab soup. If this is another peach oatmeal, Medi, we may be through.

Pray for me,
McFluffin