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Thursday, November 06, 2003

I lost another 5 pounds in the last month, for a grand total of 20 pounds. I am not quite concentration camp survivor, more like someone fresh in the ghetto, just getting used to potato water soup. The clothes I bought last year in Romania droop on me. My nice woollen pants have no belt straps; I couldn't wear a belt and I was tugging them up all day.

I have no more blubber defenses against the cold, nor enough fur to battle the near zero temperatures.

Beth promised to fatten me up.

My dinner tonight was a watered-down cream of chicken. I am still hungry but have no idea what is left in the house that is edible. Every morning I do eat giant slices out of Karen's rhubarb-and-strawberry pie. Last night the other volunteers asked me why I joined up. "Pizza dinner," said I. Three slices last night: Cajun chicken pizza, potato pizza and a zucchini-eggplant-mushroom pizza. And chocolate chip cookies dipped in ginger ale. (I also volunteered to get a free ticket to a concert.)

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