When I get out of control

I wrote the following and thought it sounded like something an anorexic would say:

Remind me not to eat at Sheri and Lance's anymore. According to my pyramid, my new master and mechanism for shame, I ate about 2,000 calories more than I expended. What one little calzone and slice of chocolate tart will do!

And I'm still behind with the NW revu. Why? It's another damn pope on the front. All popes all the time is not my idea of an exciting read. Their scandals just haven't been the same since the 1300s. But I'll get to it.