Dear Girl Scouts of America,
Thank you ever so much for this extra three pounds that I've managed to put on in THREE DAYS due to your awesome cookies. I'm really enjoying the little extra jiggle when I wiggle and punch-dance out my rage. Oh yes, just as in Hot Rod, "I needed to think about last night. So I galloped into a wooded glen, and after punch-dancing out my rage and suffering an extremely long and painful fall, I realized what has to be done." (Ain't it grand when you can forcefully insert a quote from Andy Samberg into life?)
Also, I would like to call the supposed "accuracy" of doctor's office weight scales into question. I call foul play! I feel at least ten pounds lighter than what it reads. And no, it does not make me feel better to get the reading in kilograms...now you're just making me do math to get the bad news and that is just not nice. These fingers are made to be transportation from plate to mouth...not for embarrassing oneself after using them to count.
In conclusion, dear GSOA, my awesome, amazing, sure-fire way to keep those cookies healthy and not cause weight gain did not work.
I blame you. STOP TEMPTING ME. And now I shall go divide up my 12 boxes into small portions to be doled out after reaching daily fitness goals. 18 pounds will be lost by the end of April...when I have my next appointment. And that is what I want the goddamn doctor's office scale to read. So there.
Embittered Cookie Eater