Stupid.

I can't seem to remember
to do this.

Oh well.

Maybe another year.

Whatever.

I forgot yesterday.
my
bad.

Insomniac, maybe
writing would have
helped.

but I
forgot.
Forgetful.

my
bad.

Dinner of a Champion

I just used a liquid measuring cup
to measure my wine.

Ten ounces? Not
enough. Not nearly
enough.

All I have to say is that
the scale?
It better show something.
Anything. As long as it's
less.

Anything.

Them.

They're in the aerobics studios.
Tanned.
Fit.
Blonde(usually).
Skinny.
Like, too skinny. Like
count-your-bones-skinny. Like
eat-a-sandwich-skinny. Like
want-some-chocolate?-skinny.

It seems like they're judging
me with my curvy body.
Maybe they're not, but maybe
they are.

Those step[ford] wives.

I forgot.

I just remembered that
I had to do this
today.

Oops.

Uneventful day, couch
potatoing, multiple work-outing.

Read an entire book.
Okay, it was a
Pretty Little Liars book, which
we all know doesn't really count.
Except it does.
And it was good.

Freelance.

Every time I hear Freelance
Whales in
real life or on tv,
I get a small sense of
pleasure.
I know that band. I know
those songs.

So thanks,
college boyfriend (who may be gay), for
introducing me to them, even
if the best thing from our
relationship was the introduction
to new music.

Thanks.

Diet Day One.

I've been dieting for
Four hours.
Am I thin yet?