Day 21: The Case of the Missing Patch & the Vanishing Butt
- Aug 6
- 4 min read
Updated: Aug 7
Early start today!
I think I slept like a bear - the kind that’s been tranquillised, fed a cheese board, and tucked into a weighted blanket.
My cats could have held a full séance with the ghost of Garfield in the middle of the bed and I wouldn’t have noticed.
Woke up feeling… not great. The kind of not great where you’re not sure if you’re ill, tired, or just mildly possessed by the ghost of your old carb-loving self.
But, like the committed heroine I am, I dragged myself out of bed, showered, got dressed, and drove to the station like a functioning member of society.
Work was the usual circus: meeting new people, writing comms, and other mysterious “stuff” that I can only describe as Office Olympics with extra paperwork.
Breakfast?
Oh yes… forgot that.
Almost had it for lunch, but ended up eating one small thin thing with smoked salmon leftovers.
A “bougie snack” if you will.
Drama of the Day:
My Estrogen patch fell off.
Somewhere.
Somehow.
Off my butt.
It’s gone.
The Mounjaro Chronicles may one day be adapted into a crime documentary, and this will be the episode called: “Who Took the Patch?”
The rest of the day sped by.
I somehow survived the train journey home with one eye open (the other was apparently on strike), but had to use both for driving - because the police apparently frown on pirate-style navigation.
Dinner was my trusty yellow soup with peas and a grilled chicken breast thrown in for jazz.
That combo sent me to the bathroom twice in rapid succession.
On the plus side, I am now spiritually and physically empty.
Tried on a dress I couldn’t squeeze into before… and it fits!
BUT - it appears I have also lost a significant portion of my actual butt.
It’s like a crime scene back there - nothing but a vague outline where once there was glorious cushioning.
Weigh-in tomorrow, and Jab #4 in the evening.
I don’t think I’ve lost much weight this week, but we’ll see.
Tonight’s entertainment: Destination X - my new favourite show that proves some people’s geography knowledge could be beaten by a lost pigeon.
I’m knackered, but before I collapse into bed, I’ve been thinking… maybe you wonder the same bizarre things I do on Mounjaro?
Why do I now eat like a Victorian orphan?
💬 Because my stomach’s decided it’s a quaint tea room, not an all-you-
can-eat buffet?
Is soup now my love language?
💬 Yes. It speaks directly to my soul… and my shrunken stomach.
Will my butt ever come back?
💬 Probably only if I start squatting… or smuggling melons in my leggings.
Why does a bread roll feel like a tax I can’t afford?
💬 Because carbs now have the same emotional weight as a bad ex.
If I skip breakfast, am I basically a supermodel now?
💬 No. But I do have their lunch portion size.
Why does one bite of chicken make me feel like I’ve done a competitive eating challenge?
💬 Maybe it's because my stomach’s now an Airbnb with a strict guest limit.
Do I still need snacks in the house?
💬 Only for my boyfriend and guests. And even then, I will judge them for
eating.
Why do my friends think I’ve “found a filter” instead of losing weight?
💬 Because the truth is less Instagrammable.
Will my estrogen patch ever stop disappearing?
💬 Probably only if I glue it on like I am arts-and-crafting my own bum.
Why does my cat still think my face is the best place to put her butt?
💬 Because she’s immune to my weight loss and my boundaries?
Why do I stare at my next jab like it’s an engagement ring?
💬 Because it’s the highlight of my week and it comes with fewer side
effects than Netflix cliff-hangers.
Why do my old jeans feel almost like a clown costume now?
💬 Maybe because I accidentally joined the “Saggy Denim Club.”
Why is Destination X now my intellectual Olympics?
💬 Because I can’t run a 5k but I can shout “THAT’S NOT ICELAND” at the
TV.
Why does my brain think I can eat more than my stomach?
💬 Because my brain still lives in 2023. My stomach must be firmly in the
future.
Why do I keep announcing my bathroom trips like a proud toddler?
💬 Because consistency is an Olympic sport now.
Why am I suddenly cold all the time?
💬 Is it because I’ve shed both insulation and the will to turn the heating
on?
Why do I eat dinner at 6pm now?
💬 Because my stomach’s on early-bird pensioner hours.
Why does food shopping take 7 minutes now?
💬 Because half the aisles are dead to me. RIP pasta section.
Why does weighing myself feel like a live season finale?
💬 Because I am expecting confetti or tears - no in-between.
If I’m this full after three bites… does that mean I’m officially a cheap date?
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