I was at the doctor a couple of days ago for my separation physical, and at one point in the interview the doctor said, “Oh, you’re the one with the 908 triglycerides. I was waiting for you to come in.”

“Oh, great,” I unenthused, “I’m famous.”

Apparently the diet that my regular doctor has had me on to try to help me lose weight has taken me down the road towards diabetes. The new diet prescribed by this new doctor is pretty much diametrically opposite from the previous one. So my diet is now high-carb, and I’m really hoping I don’t end up with diabetes. My weight? Well, high-carb isn’t exactly the modern dieter’s friend, but avoiding diabetes trumps rapid weight loss. Also, there’s a good chance that getting my dietary shit (so to speak) together will help me lose weight, anyway.

So, yeah, there goes at least six months of dietary effort down the drain. Dammit.