"Hey, kid, you want me." That loaf of sweet French bread jumped out at me as I entered the kitchen. "One slice won't hurt you," it purred, smiling seductively from the kitchen counter. Sigh. Deep breath. Ignoring my yearning for a taste of the bread, I gathered ingredients to make sandwiches for the Mama's and the Husband's lunch. I simply pretended that I didn't like bread. It worked, thank goodness. Turns out I still don't know better. Nine days ago, I started to limit the foods that I can eat because I was lethargic and scatterbrained. For the last two months, I had been consuming too many desserts, bread, potato chips, and beer without doing any worthwhile exercise to offset the yummy calories. In addition, my eczema was constantly raging and, frighteningly, an insect bite turned into an ugly fungal infection, which was a first for me. Burp. Burp. Yeah, a lot of those, too. So, no gluten foods. No fried foods. No desser