January 24th: Day ninety-two of doubling my daily meat-and-cheese consumption to offset Annie’s veganism after she rejected me three months and one day ago.

January 27th: Finished off the freshly opened hot-sauce bottle in the office, so that Cathy in accounting wouldn’t have any for her Thai food, because one time she told me that my dress was “super . . . unique,” but paused before “unique,” which we all know means that she intended it as an insult. (Had a huge stomach ache, but it was worth it. And it made eating my daily gallon of mac and cheese a little more fun.)

January 30th: Drank no fewer than eight cans of coconut LaCroix every day for a full week because a friend’s friend said, “Ew, really? It tastes like sunblock,” and I’m, like, “Bitch, sunblock is great, it protects against cancer.” Sales are probably now up by a small percentage, and she will be proved wrong.

February 2nd: Starting a five-day coffee cleanse because Rick said, “Oops, don’t talk to Miss Grumpy before she’s had her coffee” when I snapped at him last week. P.S. Annie the vegan texted back, so I’m cutting out goat cheese.

February 5th: Had a full head of garlic for dinner the night before a dentist appointment. That’ll show Karen, the dental hygienist. That’s the last time she comments, “Wow, twenty-four and not married? I couldn’t even imagine!”

February 7th: Ate a pulled-pork sandwich after Jenni insisted that she heard an NPR segment about how pigs are smarter than dogs, including my dog, Ginger. Ginger is smarter than any pig. I was going to eat two pulled-pork sandwiches, but Annie liked three of my tweets, which has to mean something.

February 8th: Squash-blossom-and-burrata pizza from Mozza Pizzeria after Kegan took his new girlfriend there. I had to show him that the super-special meal he got for his precious girlfriend of seven months (that’s not even an anniversary!) can’t be that special if I can just go there alone on a Tuesday. (Financially, this was too much for revenge, but that pizza is good.)

February 10th: Ate all the red Skittles in a five-pound bag, because the other day Jennifer told me they were her favorite, not too long after she told everyone that she could tell I’m a water sign because I’m overly emotional, and then everyone laughed and agreed. Sorry, Jennifer, guess you’ll have to settle for purple, which everyone knows is a subpar Skittles flavor. Also noticed that Annie watched my first Instagram story, but not my next eight, which means that she just SWIPED THROUGH, and, because of that, goat cheese is back in the diet.

February 11th: Started to microwave all of my food, even food that is supposed to be cold, because my manic-pixie-dream-girl neighbor said that she didn’t own a microwave, as if that makes her original. My tongue is permanently burned, but at least my burritos are very warm in the middle. Annie forwarded me an e-mail about her friend’s standup show, which has to mean SOMETHING, so I’m putting almond milk in my coffee this week.

February 15th: Turns out that Annie had a date on Valentine’s Day. I ate a whole roasted pig. The whole thing. I totally ruined someone’s luau. My doctor wants to examine me, because of my “worrying changes in diet,” so I'm going to eat straight-up rocks and really give him a show.