A few weeks ago, while I was clearing out a bookshelf, I came upon a chart I had created over ten years ago to document the progress of a weight-loss regimen. At that time, I was approaching a 'milestone' birthday, and having decided that I was unacceptably overweight, I propelled myself into a serious diet and exercise plan, fastidiously recording every morsel I ate and drank, every weight I lifted and every mile I ran. My plan was an amazing success, and I showed up for my birthday celebration looking more fabulous than I ever had in my entire life. I was lean, I was fit, my body was smokin', slammin' and all the other adjectives that one could possibly apply to a woman as stunning as I was. Then, something happened. I'm not quite sure when, or how, because I didn't actually witness the event myself. If pressed for an explanation, I can only conclude that sometime in the past ten years, my brain was removed from my body, kicked about on the floor for a while,