I really hate how my body looks at the moment. Well, I like my boobs and I'm pretty happy with my ass. But I hate my stomach and my thighs and my upper arms. I hate them. The fat deposits. So for a while, I'm only having breakfast and dinner, because all the dieticians and experts say that if you want to skip a meal, make it lunch. If I get hungry during the day, I'll embrace the feeling of my stomach eating itself. If it gets too bad for that, I'll have a barley sugar. I can have anything I like for dinner, for example I'm going out to the Pancake Manor tomorrow and that's absolutely fine. Although, I'm going to switch from Macca's to Subway for work dinners. Once a week, I'm going to have ice cream for dessert. I'm going to keep walking to work, to the train station, to anywhere. I'm even turning coke back into a treat. I just have to fix it.
I've so successfully convinced myself that alcohol is horrible to the point where the thought of drinking it makes me feel nauseated. A year ago, I would have said nauseous, but that's not technically a word. It's nauseated. Anyway, I don't understand what I ever saw in it. I suppose I just wanted to be happy for a while, you know? Either way, I'm happy naturally now, so I don't need that false burst of happiness. I get that from living. Those people who in their lists of interests put 'drinking' seem rather pathetic. Drinking? You're interested in putting alcohol in your system. That's your hobby. Good work. Even before I quit it was never in my interests. Geez.
I can't wait till the end of next year.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
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