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I love Prosecco.  I drink it all year round and from the time I hear that cork pop until the very last sip, I am in a happy state of mind.  Prosecco has helped me celebrate success and conversely drown out pure sadness at the loss of a friend.  I have toasted a Thursday night or two while watching Grey’s Anatomy. I have slowly sipped from a  cold flute during a sad movie on the Hallmark Channel.  You can see, we are buds.

But alas, we have to part ways, temporarily.  I have spent the last 14 months arguably working hard at the gym with a trainer and a nutritionist and yet that darn scale will not move.  Well it’s time to take control.  For the next 14 days I am on a strict diet to see if this effort will indeed change that red digital read out on the scale that yells at me each week.

I am dreading the loss of my friend Prosecco come next Saturday night while we are sitting by the fire outside.  A lovely brie or goat cheese paired with a Coke Zero? Ugh.

I fear making a salad for lunch Monday without a shred of cheese.  No chocolate in the late afternoon.  No apples with whipped peanut butter.  Has my food life ended as I know it? Am I crazy?

We will find out in two weeks.  I share this for support and encouragement from my friends and family. Know now that when you see me and I seem a little off, I may be in mourning…mourning I hope the loss of a pound or two, or ten.  Stay tuned.

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