If I don’t blow up the world today, it will be a miracle. Please stand by for news of your impending destruction. Or not. Who knows.
Though my best friends are all gorgeous and much thinner than I am, they themselves, never, ever make me feel bad about myself. In fact, they are always sweet, encouraging and nod sympathetically if I have a woe in this arena. Never have any of them ever tried to give me advice about how to lose weight or have ever suggested that I should be trying at all. This (among myriad other things) is why they are my best friends. I never mind if they want to talk about working out or their progress (or lack thereof) in their fitness pursuits. Mostly, because these are not talks solely about “Ugh, why am I SO FAT?”
The people I’m referring to in those posts are folks I rarely hang with anymore because I got tired of listening to the endless fat talk.
I just really want to start a gym for geeks where you’d have to like run away from Daleks or GET TO ENGINEERING through some ducts or like compete in a Tri-Wizard Tournament or train with lightsabers and it would just be hilarious nerdy wonderful fun.
This is the only way I would ever enjoy the gym. Advanced RPGs, engineered to give you a workout.
Ok, I know that nobody cares about the boring minutiae of selling one’s home, so I’ll make this short.
I am so tired of all these documents and disclosures and going through these processes. I am so glad that we have the help of D’s company and a relocation package. I am very, very grateful, but LORD I just want to be done with this. Plus, it’s taking forever to grade and I just want to be DONE. I just want to stop cleaning things and stop signing and scanning and faxing things. Mostly, I just want to cry in the back of my closet.
I’m tired of being alone and I’m tired to thinking about this crap a million times so I don’t mess it all up.